Poem: Nautical by Nature

A poem about the impact of John Cheever’s Short Story, The Swimmer

I spend a lot of time thinking
about the John Cheever story, The Swimmer
and its okay film adaptation, starring Burt Lancaster.

It’s essentially a retelling of the myth of
Narcissus, a middle-age journey into the heart
of darkness, that starts on a lovely summer’s day.

Neddy Merrill decides to
swim home, over eight miles away, and
across fences and lawns, as he moves pool-to-pool.

It moves from realism to
surrealism, barely taking a breathe,
as he freestyles home to find not much still standing.

It’s brutal and beautiful, and
you feel you’ve been swimming
the miles alongside the story’s character.

It’s so sad at the finish. His life wasted as he
wandered. I feel it describing my own early 20s.
I’m just glad I was a good enough swimmer back then.