By: Thomas Zimmerman
There’s nothing normal in my life, you think.
But everyone is weird. I’m here drunk
on meter, counting fives and tens. A dime-
store hobby. Ask my wife. Or quickly blink
your eyes. The world’s made new, an attic trunk
of stories waiting just for you to climb
the creaking stairs, then strike a match to set
the thing ablaze so you can tell your own
strange tales. I’ve heard that someone glimpsed a girl
with fish for hair, that there’s a isle not yet
despoiled that’s roamed by headless men full grown,
their faces in their chests. Such myths still swirl
and churn the sediments of waters dark,
still rise to drown you, sailor, and your bark.
***
Thomas Zimmerman teaches English, directs the Writing Center, and edits two literary magazines at Washtenaw Community College, in Ann Arbor, Michigan. His chapbook In Stereo: Thirteen Sonnets and Some Fire Music appeared from The Camel Saloon Books on Blog in 2012. Tom’s website: http://thomaszimmerman.