What He Said in the 11th Chorus

You swim in the biggest one
of a chain
of lakes. Don’t fear
the consequences. There your head goes 

popping through the surface
then bubbling back under. You
were adamant—you don’t
like the tone of Kerouac’s poems. So there you go 

through water without salt,
through muck
seen and unseen. I could not be
so brave. I’d rather splash 

through an ocean without narrative,
would rather let sound
carry me
than the other way around.

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