IN THE FLOOD

by John Grey

The river overflows.
Streets are hopeless.
Town planners leave for higher grounds.
Families resume life in their attics.

I prefer to be the one man wading
from the park gazebo
to the bench outside the hardware store.

My father was always well prepared for floods.
He said, even when it’s dry,
the ground we stand on is nothing
but floating cars and carcasses.
Keep your head above water
and don’t touch anything electric,
and you’ll get by.

I’ve always heeded his advice.
Up until now,
all that’s been missing
are the circumstances.