ALEXANDRA UMLAS

The Ride

The platform was moving, the water churning,
and we sat around the center of the floatation
boat-raft with a buoyant rubber bottom and spun

down a rapids-filled, man-made river
while people on the side watched, squealing
and pointing, with joyful fingers, and you spend

the entirety of the ride saying It’s not that bad,
and raising your feet off the floor so the water
doesn’t splash onto your Vans and trying

to enjoy the trees, but at some point, you turn
a corner, and when you see the drop, you hope
in your heart-of-hearts that the whole thing

will whirl, so those strangers on the other side
will have to slosh around in their shoes
for the rest of the day, and you start to wonder

if this is just a giant metaphor for life, rotating
in circles, trying not to get soaked, someone
glad it isn’t them, gathered in a group on the edge—

and you sort of hope the whole boat will stay dry,
but know it isn’t possible, so better if it isn’t
you, and the heavily chlorinated cold

comes over the sides (again) and you clutch
the handles while a noise like laughing or screaming
(it’s hard to tell) circles overhead with the birds.

Alexandra Umlas is the author of the poetry collection At the Table of the Unknown.