Issue 73, Spring-Summer 1978
was dead, face down
in the river, until I raised her
to air on the dock by her tangled
jasmine hair and pumping fire
of my lungs past her fish lips brought
her from the depths of reverse parastholis.
Aware of our brief miracle she jumped
to water again screaming “Die! Die!”
and I had to strike her unconscious.
For her own good I took her home with me
(she had no identification)
and lay her on a slab of cheese
cloth in the bathtub. I left the room
for a minute and came back to find her head
in the toilet sucking water. For the third time
I rescued this uncontrollable suicide.