There’s a saying about the wisdom of being drunk in a small boat.
There’s another about sex under a full moon, possibly also on a small boat.
Or is it sex with an ex? Or breakup sex? Or a bottle of Boone’s Farm Kountry Kwencher.
You can’t believe it’ll be that bad. Until you’re puking over the side of a small boat.
1989, her driveway. She said we were ruining our friendship. She was right.
At Scott’s lakehouse in Pell City, she stayed ashore. It was, after all, a small boat.
My favorite summer: the year I worked at a bait shop. Learned to talk like a fisherman.
Didn’t write a word. Got a good tan and my first muscles, from dragging around small boats.
A question of ethics: When you break up with someone, should you be honest about why?
What if it isn’t very nice, or makes you look bad? It’s a long way from here to a small boat.
Ghazal, I’m told, is Arabic for “talking to women.” The couplets should be linked, like couples.
They should also be detachable units. Like, for instance, a series of small boats.
If I said I was never very good at talking to women, I would want you to think me a liar.
I once drank a bottle of wine while nightfishing. The story ends like that, in a small boat
in the dark – I’m breaking the rules here; detachment isn’t as easy as it sounds –
where was I? Oh, yes: in the moonless dark, moaning her name from the bottom of a small boat.
"Guzzle" appeared in Gargoyle 56 (2010)
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