Pg. 41 — MIDDLE-AGED MAN MEETS HIS INNER FEMININE by Neall Calvert
A strange orange craft, ovoid fuselage,
triple-pontoon undercarriage, shoots
from the ocean straight up, soars high
like a rocket and lands, an hour later,
in another ocean—on another planet.
I observe its flight but, bilocated,
am journeying inside the amphibian too.
Uncertain of protocol, I stand back from
the crew; the captain, a woman, smiles
and says, “You’ll catch on . . .” (non-
authoritarian leadership: what I like).
Back on Earth, she and I stand close
in a field; soon there’s an embrace.
I realize we’ll be married! First union.
I am fifty-seven.
Don’t wake me.