Self Portrait as the 500 Freestyle
By: Sage Hardiman
Take your mark
And leave your mark
And mark your name
And mark your events
In green sharpie marker
Across Saturday’s arm
Etching, can an individual
Be a medley of four names
And fail to lead the mixed
Gender medley relay
Because one can’t
Won’t hear their own voice
Announcing take your mark,
‘O Alligator, guardian of
The diving board,
Teach them to plunge
And tread and turn
Pale green and cry
and quit to find themselves
Drowned at the bottom
Of the pool and staring
Down at their own corpse
pulling it the mile upwards,
Tube under green arms as
Guards fragment their
Toes and fragment their
Names and fragment themselves
On the deck and wave
Back at the bright flags that
Rub backs and count back
Until triangular teeth bite
Scars on right legs
Of the butterfly transforming
To aching to tears can’t
Mark the water but
A single free stroke
Still marks the surface splashing
Wading, waiting for a
Breath, a flip turn of events
Take your mark with caution
Don’t flinch, don’t stop, don’t lose,
Don’t drown.