Swimming at the Hog’s Head Bar

By Francesca Leader


The signs on the windowless plywood wall
said “Coors,” “Dance,” and “Pool.”
“Pool” was the one that tantalized—
Though Mother denied it, I couldn’t believe

there wasn’t something magical in that bar;
that those loop-gaited men
in dirty cowboy hats
and dirtier baseball caps,
all with feet that seemed half broken

(as if in the process of becoming fins)
weren’t on their way
to a crystal-blue tank
around which they would shuck off the filth

of unwashed plaids and Levi’s

to become leathery fish,
diving into the icy blue drink,
swimming

all the way to Alaska.


Francesca Leader is a writer and artist whose fiction has appeared or is forthcoming in Wigleaf, J Journal, CutBank, and elsewhere. Her original translation of the iconic Japanese “iroha” poem was awarded first prize in the Society of Classical Poets’ 2021 Poetry Translation Competition. You can find her on Twitter and Instagram @moon.in.a.bucket.

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