Out of her depth by Beth McDonough

Out of her depth

In a menace of goggles and tight-

fit cap, one woman strides to her first

Deep Water Aerobics Class. Breathed in

big attitude, she puffs chlorine out, squints 

for piled weights and floats. None spotted she 

plops in, tiles knees, clocks herself 

ensconced with a waft-aloft 

blue-rinsed crew. FAME!

Five minutes strapped in the spotty-dog 

dance, FAME! clap, she’s now

the woman she’d bubble mocked 

goggled from lanes. FAME! 

Six steps to the right, three 

claps overhead. She tries to wipe out

that infinite corn-plaster churn.

Beth McDonough writes often of foraging and Tay swimming. Her poetry appears in Agenda, Antiphon and elsewhere; she reviews in DURA. Her pamphlet Handfast (2016, with Ruth Aylett) explores family experiences – Aylett’s of dementia and McDonough’s of autism.


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