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Hot Water SestinaJanuary, a perfect day for Ojo Caliente.I drive myself nuts, then head to the hot springs. My cat is lost, my husband has no job. There are younger women everywhere, on land and water. Months of holy war, it’s time I swam. My favorite place on earth, the iron pool. All summer I was too crazed for any pool. Sing hey ho estrogen, sing Holy Ojo Caliente. The universe is made of I and Thou. With ease I swam Into this life as I. How did you spring Alive, as feast or famine? From what ancestral water Did God birth you? Who’s your mother? What’s your job Here? What if my husband loves or hates his next job? He’s got a cold, four horses, but no swimming pool. This summer both of us were in hot water, Emotionally, I mean financially, not like Ojo Caliente, More like real life, mid-life. Someone’s got to spring For action when the heat’s down. He sprang, I swam. The heat returned. I love you. We nearly sank. He swam. He rode his horse beside another woman. What’s a job For if not to lose it? We’re lucky, blessed since spring Has called our number. Holy holy holy holy gene pool. There is no place to turn but now, and Ojo Caliente, Where iron and arsenic, lithium and soda conspire as water. I met a woman named Athena in the water. Goddess or angel beside an aging swami. These are my teachers of the day at Ojo Caliente. Scarred by the moon, dark young sister. Man with holy job Who is this swami, Hanuman in the iron pool? I say, "This is the Life!" "This is the afterlife," he springs Eternal. My daughter’s name is Hope, but how does fear spring? How about anger? Imagine all our prayers answered by water, Which is itself prayer, but so are younger women. Let’s pool Our wisdom, become saints and saviors. We swam We saw, we left, and water cheered us. This is its job, Dissolve what’s solid. Thanks be and gracias Ojo Caliente. I’d recommend this spring to any passing swami, To lovers or strangers to mystic water. Isn’t it our job To grow the gene pool? Grown down not up at Ojo Caliente. |
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Issue #17, September, 2000 :
Santa Fe Poetry Broadside.