Updated Impact Report

I’m no good for stock tips,
and I’m lacking of ladder.
But I love the half-acre
blanket I’ll sleep on tonight,
bee’s clover soft like
sunlight beneath.

Cloud sandwich,
thin blue meat of sky.

No salida.  Por supuesto.  
Necesito construir la presa.
The reservoir, the dam.

At the end of the avenue, the river
goes underground, becomes
the aquifer that filled a million years ago.

I promise I’ll sip slowly.

---

This poem originally appeared in the Red Rock Review. It was printed in their Fall 2022 issue, which does not appear to be available for purchase. But you can see a digital copy here. I thank them for publishing this poem.