Cut me in half & a wet-eyed snake
swaddling a fifty-seven leaf clover
falls out, slinks into
the warmest park of a rotting dock.

You wanted the authentic
Annapolis experience: I’m no local
but I build the porches
& know the ways back in the dark
& you’ve caught me
feeling generous.

Would a coin toss be fair?
Heads you win, tails I lose.
I’m sure the herons
& ospreys will give us
directions to shore

or Tilghman Island;
if we’re lucky, Thomas Point Lighthouse
lolling where I last left it.
My father & his dead friends
used to jump this bridge drunk,
the trick’s just
pointing your toes,
the trick’s just
going first.