The reef does not break this oath;
its face contorting and crumbling --
polyps flare and sway with desire.
Its great knees are knobs for adjustment.
The fish, with their gills beating madly,
are flickering sadly and dumbly:
staring stagnant and wide-eyed
and stupid with drink.
Then there is the wide-grinning shark;
slinking through the lost green city, picking bones clean.
He is blunt, but still silent. He is all smiles
and sanguine, all murder and hijinks.
(and all this unbeknownst
to the slumbering white whale,
gone grey with no Ahab)
Night sweeps like a plague, downward,
sugaring over the wildness.
The earth's harsh cry wanders
beneath the hush of the gulf.














Comments
Well Done!!
--
There's always a better poem just out of reach.
Words create situations [link]
The roots of the future run deep [link]
--
There's always a better poem just out of reach.
Words create situations [link]
The roots of the future run deep [link]
Previous PageNext Page