There weren’t stalls, no frosted glass anywhere,
So we showered in our speedos.
We had some Soviets on our swim team
Who shampooed and soaped up naked, but
They weren’t half as bad as Reagan said.
They had run off and finished first so
History couldn’t book them.
They were free from even our freedom.
He was little Leonid the Russian kid when
He swam with us, then stopped. Then he’s golden.
Years later my lifeguard girlfriend is training
With the junior college and there he is but
Now he’s Lenny and he’s swimming again
Toward a scholarship toward the millennium
Toward the gods on Mount Olympus, how
Could they not favor him he was so otherworldly
At work. Years later he shakes my hand and
Remembers me thank god for transparency.
We couldn’t see the worldly in him then
And now he’s a local you’ll never know.
***
Brian Timmerman
Brian Timmerman lives in West Hills, Ca, a suburb of Los Angeles, with his wife and two daughters and coaches a swim team. His work appeared this spring in Blue Earth Review and is forthcoming in Welter. Contact Ldbt@aol.com to schedule a swim lesson.
