A PROCLIVITY FOR DEATH

sometimes I close my eyes
and lean against the shower head
just to feel what it’s like
to have a gun held there,
flush to my temple.

but when I bend over
to twist the silver nozzles
and end my lazy shower,
the last bit of warm water
that falls off my neck
feels like the silken
hair of a lover
riding down the interstate
of my nerves,
and I think I’d rather
not be at gunpoint.

other times I like to stare
at the ocean, take in the
huffing clouds, exhaling,
and then look into the
puddle at my feet,

compare the two
bodies of water.

the ocean makes me
wish I could be like
the animals and fuck
without thinking.

the puddle makes me
feel small and wonder
what it’s like six feet under,
probably
one giant upskirt
of Mother Nature.

© 2016 Michael McNally

The Big Windows Review 7 (Spring 2016)