Don't just stare at me, come take a dive.
Don't just wonder of my depth, come look.
Don't just ponder on your thoughts making poetry,
Instead soak your feet and taste me...

For I have been flowing through this town long before
Your Grandfather sat on the banks and counted his quarters.

I wont hurt you. Come play with me,
I gleam, I shine, I quench.
I am the River that has been flowing
Through your town
Even when James counted his Quarters.

-Nisha Balani
August 2009

Not Waving But Drowning- Stevie Smith

Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.