The high-pressure system followed us
from our apartment and out to where
the houses, scattered on the hills and set apart,

Above us, on the second floor, my mother’s
footsteps creaking fall. When we die, that’s it.
He looks heavenwards: what’s up with dinner?

In a rowboat, on a lake, the self-actualized man rested,
both oars drawn in, on his lap. The class, in rows, watched
as our high school health teacher held him up,

are any houses. That’s for sure. And as for
cars, trucks, tractors, trailers, motorcycles,
you’re in another universe, friend. At most