My mother was once
a teenage girl trapped
on a boat in the middle
of the bay with a boy
her father called Jesus
because he was a dirty hippy.
No oars and no motor
just time and the sun.
I don’t know how she reached land
but when she did, she decided to stay forever.
Not long after, Jesus got shot in the leg
while breaking into a junkyard
so she left him and met my father.
My mother was a perfect swimmer
but she never set foot
on water again.
Sean Lynch is a poet and editor who lives in South Philadelphia. Recent poems appear in Hobart, Meow Meow Pow Pow, and SurVision Magazine. He’s the founding editor of Serotonin and the Program Director of the Nick Virgilio Haiku Association, in Camden, NJ.