sometimes they’d be there
other times they wouldn’t
in the retention pond
we learned to swim in
where you almost drowned
that one summer
now there wasn’t swimming anymore
or summer
but there was salvation
in the liver spotted hands
of television messiahs
who said the clouds could rain down
the fortified wine blood of a savior we never knew or didn’t care to know
though the pond seemed to grow more shallow every year because the blood never came
and we still got our buzz from the gas station
that also sold nails for crucifixion
though they never did pierce a hand or a foot
and mainly held up the treehouse dad built before he left
we’d wade in anyway
because it was better than being dry
and sometimes when the water seemed to heal our skin
that seemed to never scab
because sometimes it was easier to go under
than stay afloat
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