R L Swihart: ‘Dress in Layers’, ‘Apocryphal Gospel of Z 3:19–23’ and ‘Apocryphal Gospel of Z 7:11–13’

Dress in Layers

My team lost this weekend. I guess it’s a rebuilding year

The latter half of October. Next Sunday the time will change

Monday. I’m in a lull. A bit of a depression. I can’t see
the other side. I’m chasing jack-o’-lanterns
on the freeway. All orange eyes

*

If you come, dress in layers. California isn’t a desert
country by the sea. Ideas won’t keep you warm

R L Swihart

Apocryphal Gospel of Z 3:19–23

The course was no longer named after the famous brothers. Now it
was simply known as the Short Course. It was early. A weekday.
The guy managing the driving range and taking green fees
even had time (and the kindness) to give her a few tips

Though the first few holes were very “tight,” she got off
to a good start. Bogey. Bogey. Double

Holes 4 and 5: Triple. Triple. The par 5 was the last straw.
She spiraled out of control. Dub. Dribble. Dribble.
She lost the first ball in the tall grass. Then hit
two more into the woods

I played Hole 7 by myself. Had a long putt for par and missed.
She’d had enough. She crossed the street and returned
her clubs. I quickly took a pic of the grazing cranes.
Then followed

I don’t remember if we got ice cream or not

R L Swihart

Apocryphal Gospel of Z 7:11–13

“I don’t mind if we stay here,” he said. “We’ll be closer
to the girls and it still feels like home. But don’t
bury me here: the boneyard is ugly”

“Put it in writing,” she said

“Cremation: Sutton Hoo. Cambria. A simple stone
with one of my poems. You pick”

R L Swihart