Archimedes
noticed it centuries ago.
I slide
beneath the surface.
The bath
water rises.
I hope for a
Eureka moment.
My head
rests against the back of the tub,
Waits for a
profound revelation,
Remembers Degas’s
bathers.
Time-honored
ideas and images
Flood the naked
mind,
Wash away incongruous
thoughts,
Lift off crusty
scars left by the banal,
Create
strong currents to carry off debris,
Crumble unstable
edifices, and
Slowly seep
into cerebral folds and crevices.
My submerged
brain displaces the reflections
As my body
displaces water,
Yet the
volume of rising contemplation
Is greater
than any gray matter
I can
measure after the bath
With a towel
wrapped around my hair
And another
drying my left foot.
©cmheuer, 2017