Fishing Boat in the Eye of a Hurricane by Jason Ryberg

          with apologies to Billy Collins

How, exactly, do
     we know that there’s no bills or
mortgages in the
     afterlife? How can we be
so sure there will be
     no need for door jams or poop-
shovels or window
     wipers, no more subways, no
more traffic tickets
     or jacket pockets to for-
get them in (only
     to find them there, years later),
no more slithery
     snakes chasing us, nakedly,
through the lush garden
     of earthly delights (no more
chasing your hat through
     the windy woods), no more bright
moon in the horse trough.
     No, it’s more like being a
fishing boat in the
     calm eye of a hurricane
of multi-colored
     butterflies, like being the
     water or the wind, itself.



Jason Ryberg lives part-time in Kansas City, MO with a rooster named Little Red and a Billy-goat named Giuseppe, and part-time somewhere in the Ozarks, near the Gasconade River, where there are also many strange and wonderful woodland critters.