Daniel Romo
Deep End
I float on my back for the first time
this summer, limbs outstretched as if
casting out my middle-age from the
center of the pool. Contentment is
neither swimming nor drowning, and
it’s anyone’s guess concerning the
origin of the cannonball. The goal is
to swim 20 laps, but my internalization
suggests being stationary is a metaphor
I’m called to live out. There’s more
time to rationalize when we’re less
active and the president steps away
from his golf game to putt around
with flood victims since photo ops
with displaced citizens from natural
disasters are hole-in-ones, though
no glamour shot exists when your
best angle of the model is a mirage.
I close my eyes to block out the sun
and partisan of this country in this
initial soaking of the season, a July
baptismal where I immerse in self-
care and empathy, a temporary
reprieve from a haphazard splashing
that’ll drown us all.
this summer, limbs outstretched as if
casting out my middle-age from the
center of the pool. Contentment is
neither swimming nor drowning, and
it’s anyone’s guess concerning the
origin of the cannonball. The goal is
to swim 20 laps, but my internalization
suggests being stationary is a metaphor
I’m called to live out. There’s more
time to rationalize when we’re less
active and the president steps away
from his golf game to putt around
with flood victims since photo ops
with displaced citizens from natural
disasters are hole-in-ones, though
no glamour shot exists when your
best angle of the model is a mirage.
I close my eyes to block out the sun
and partisan of this country in this
initial soaking of the season, a July
baptismal where I immerse in self-
care and empathy, a temporary
reprieve from a haphazard splashing
that’ll drown us all.
Daniel Romo is the author of American Manscape (Moon Tide Press 2026), Bum Knees and Grieving Sunsets (FlowerSong Press 2023), Moonlighting as an Avalanche (Tebot Bach 2021), and other books. More at danieljromo.com.
