The Rough Beast Listens to a PSA from Lake America
       

Down in the deep blue waters
of America, where submarines
practiced their sonar, there is no
creature. We repeat, there is no
creature rising. Beneath the weather-
treated lumber of new docks,
the mosquito-swarm-whirring
of waterskiers, the spit-static speakers
of the boats blaring past with glittered
hulls, only the light shines: thin
as the glaze on breakfast pastries;
the McDonald's gold and cheerful
beaks of swans. Their bodies have
been hollowed to hold families
on bench seats with two sets of peddles
for circling and circling. Unroyal thrones
with backswept feathers like Elvis's
pompadour gone patriotic white.
The day is exactly the size of this.
Leak proof. Cooler-zipped. The lake
is the size the Freedom Dam made it.
It is made of its surface.
It is made of Lee Greenwood
crackling in ripples of passing wake:
I'd thank my lucky
stars to be
livin' here today
though (we repeat),
no one lives here.
The turbines are the restlessness
you're hearing. There is no creature
churning in the mud-flapped depths.
Nothing but the swans arc
their necks. They are rentable
hourly. Safe for children
as far as the buoys.
There is no lifeguard
on duty. No woman sweeping
up bubbles and perch from
her long-drowned porch.
The people were paid
to move away from the town
that was flooded. Their
mailboxes rust now: the long
swinging arms for when
the snow plows struck them,
algaed and silt-slunk.
Snow melts in the lake now.
Snow melts into summer.
We repeat: no one is looking up
through a thousand feet of water,
missing the starlight. The boats
are private, safer stormclouds
And the flag
still stands for freedom
crackling across the flat full sky of lake.
It is the afterlife of river.
It is freedom secured
and spillwayed. God's voice
booming back louder
from the high flat concrete
of the temple wall. There is no God
before or beneath this.
There is no creature
you cannot proudly fish for.
You can peddle in circles,
or you can peddle harder; you can
rent a better swan.
We are not responsible if you
drown; now that we've told you
there is no way
(we repeat) to; nothing
to drag you down.

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Copyright © 2022 Alexandra Teague All rights reserved
from Boulevard
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission