They called me The White Whale.
I dreamed of carving off my blubber,
perhaps learning to breathe
for minutes at a time
so I could sing,
because whales are elusive.
The ocean is vast. I could have lived
without another pinch, another poke, another
he only loves you for your tits. Get a tan,
go for a jog, are you gonna eat
or assimilate?
Their harpoons were steady.
They had no remorse, a close friend told me,
"I just want you to be healthy." She braided my hair,
complimented the color, my eyes a drizzle,
said there was a mermaid
hiding in my shape,
I started smoking the next day.
I used to pace from the cabinet
to the basement with armful
something in the timbre, tall heat,
sugar licking palm fronds fat cats
sweltering sundays.
wash the salt; wash the afterburn it
isn't
like we planned you never
say the words plain, only
mm
mm if we ever could we maybe stay
we always tried but couldn't shake
the open space we make the world a-
nother shape as we stand among the
timbertall sugar licking palm fronds
fall.
til heat escapes.
and voices change.
sugar licking palm fronds fall we
had to know the after-all we had
t
There's a halo
on the moon tonight.
String another feather
snipped too soon
'round the leather grips
of a scythe
curved heavy with souls.
Remember:
Death is not like the SIMs.
There are no warning labels.
"We call everything a river here."
--Richard Brautigan
there's a love parade
this sunday
beautiful blue and white houses
spill children into the street
like beads of happy colored glass--
music all over.
the trees are spring,
fall, and summer,
apricot angels
green yellow maples
all love people
two moons to a face
I think of a quiet
pebbled stream in this moonlight
and a younger woman,
like a single brush of ink,
dipping softly,
as the pebbled stream dips,
into winter, or untimed wild.
Why the fish-men are so many, and we, so few by reflectionsinwater, literature
Literature
Why the fish-men are so many, and we, so few
Kois flock like rainbows, trellis vines
evolved to curl to the Moon and dine.
We are rivers, but from gold mines,
the rails align and we find birds
evolved to curl. We are rivers
given to furnish vacant land.
We are rivers, but forgot, and
evolved to curl fish to brigands.
Past canopies foresaw this dirge:
we are rivers (evolved) to curl.