How To Ask For Help Poem by Ben Partenay

If you're clever, maybe even
more clever than I, you
would have seen
that I forgot to tie
my shoes again today. I wanted
to tell you then but you were
drinking coffee,
but you were filling
your moments with
daylight.
I wanted to.

And later, you
were drinking wine
and I was wondering
just how much
time we spend drinking. With
our mouths full of matter
to maybe
avoid having to speak. If I
asked you now,
you would choke
trying to answer. Then
we'd both need help.

I tried once, as a child
after falling in the lake.
I kicked and splashed and sank.
And isn't this something we know,
not at birth, but
at the first time we open our mouths
underwater
to call out
and are filled with
just barely enough
to drown?

And now,
I'm walking home
wearing my favorite t-shirt
and blue dreams, and
I'll drink your coffee.
I'll drink your wine.
But I still have not
learned to swim.