Waterboys

I like to think waterboys go homeafter a day of dispensing Dixie cups,kick on 6-inch heels and feel over-qualified to serve drinks. After all,someone fought as hard to put menin stilettos as we did to put them onthe moon. I hope they wrap theirchipped shoulders in the seven-colorflag—Atlas in a tasteful shrug. Thatwould be best; to warm themselvesin the compact of weathered rainand shout, half a foot closer to clouds,I do not fear the flood; I am the flood.