Slicing the Water

The keel
Of my soul only
Slices the water of these
Men, neatly, quickly,
My glidemark closing
Behind me as I go -
Easy passage through hostile seas.

In contrast to this: my body is 
Lead-lined and chained, thrown-in 
At the deep end, no doubt to
Drown and lie submerged gazing 
Up through the defeating blue; lungs 
Suck-in unwilling fluid; hair
Tuggs and tuggs to get free.

OK Houdini get out of this one I hear
You say: up and out, alive, pained chin 
Just edging the waterline and rise, rise, 
Extricate from weights that hold me
Down to dimness and fishfood.  Flying 
Needs no keel to watercut, no chains -
Pure wings earned in subaqueous places 

Are silverings enough to bear thee aloft, away.

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