Pole vaulters, I do not effing get you.
Putting Freudian foibles to one side—
running a massive rod into a groove

to ride its twangy shock wave to the sky,
to arch one’s back over a trip wire arch
and effortlessly fall the other way,

does not strike me as natural or smart.
Although there was a time,  when fishing leaves
between two banks, about six feet apart,

I lost the sure grip of my size ten feet,
plunged towards the murky, freezing waters
and improvised a pole with my leaf net

to push to safer ground. My body hovered
above quivering lip, then plonked right in
to roaring waves of my co-worker’s laughter,

my wet pants stuck like lycra to my skin.


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. peter litton
    Aug 10, 2012 @ 23:48:45

    I’m not sure that your body shape lends itself to pole vaulting. Given Ireland’s success in the boxing, I think that is the way to go…probably in the heavy weight division.


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