Hypernatremia

Late summer presses down-A sweltering week, shimmering Out beyond that old Airstream, One wheel off in the tamarisk-A furnace of gleaming chrome Where the old man slowly dried Like an ancient lake, a pan of salt, In a desert between a Tigris And Euphrates of choice, Unaware of the cool tap, sitting Right there, pumped from far Granite ranges in California-Free water, dammed and diverted.I wonder if he turned and saw The sinful city's dusty ruin-Flesh to dough and blood to brine.And I, the white coat water bearer, Do the only human thing, a drink To the fallen soldier.Dream, Please dream of boats and beaches While water does its work.