loch ness is
the bath tube at my parent's house

my belly protruding
from the water like a brush
covered island

i was seven the first time
i discovered the tiny men 
in suites sitting
on the shoreline 
cameras slung around
their necks 
taking pictures

they pointed in awe
at the size of my elbows 
my giant-squid eyes
blinking away soap suds

i submerged my
whole body to get away
from them

i could hear 
billy brushing his
teeth at the sink

faucet squeak

he stood on his tip-toes
to lean in closer to the mirror 

& i sank deeper & deeper 
into the muck & stones

there was no kelp 
or sea grass 
to conceal a body 
as big as mine was 

the loch ghostily
empty-- a vacant womb 

all monsters are in someway
man-made

even if it is making
ourselves 

i hoped 
the real loch ness
creature would meet me

her long neck a
cat's cradle string 
tied to my bunk bed post

i found myself
tangled in her

my own skeleton
re-arranging itself 

bones smooth &
coated in algae
 
a prehistoric shadow

above the water my
brother called 
something 

probably my name 

only i had lost all 
words under stones

feeling around 

hands becoming mythos

i never saw her

but in the distance
i felt a body aching 
to be proven

isn't that what we
all want?

if asked for evidence
i would take everyone
to the bath tub
& ask them how
far down it goes

at the bottom of
the loch i searched until
i finally touched 
the smooth rubber 
hips of the drain 

yanked free

all the water
in the world down
our throats

do you drink soap?

did she leave with
the water?

safe somewhere
rushing under kutztown 
when it thunder pours & 
the run-off thrashes 
down storm drains 

there's no more loch ness

i took it with me

when i moved 

& now i only take showers

i search for empty tubs
to lay in