251 Readings | 7 Ratings
aquarium
i.
the constant tidal noise of cars becomes our air
the err becomes you
how we lie to ourselves about clothes & credit
you bought me admission
to the aquarium all animals, being equal
try to concentrate on the inside of this cheek
we hold these truths make this force a tender gesture of inequality
sweeping the glass
I am drawn to the octopus above all others
ii.
I watch as you trace the blink angler fish in & out
between a rock & another rock
the trajectory of your features thundering aquiline
all the gathering masses what are you guessing
iii.
perhaps the offshore oil platforms // the red topper mocking the stars // in places you must move only by feeling // navigate between a rock & another // have you paid // another attention // to these forms // you know the game // the one where we hold our breath in the tunnel // a pause as long as the rim of square lights // lining the sides of the Caldecott // we stopped playing //after we heard about the man who died // holding his breath for 9 minutes // a contest at a community swimming pool // the pound of water & the rushing of muffled cries // subsumed in oyster cracker dry-mouth
tumbleweed thought down the pier
iv.
you took me to that beach little cliff off the highway
where the ocean hides
no one said anything
between cigarettes
we threw rocks to where the black tide should be
later you stood
in the shower for 10 minutes not moving
you couldn’t see me because of the fog
once my body felt like an altar // intimate rubble of // stone & glass
I could tell you were trying quietly fishing sand out of my wet ear in the dark
the constant tidal noise of cars becomes our air
the err becomes you
how we lie to ourselves about clothes & credit
you bought me admission
to the aquarium all animals, being equal
try to concentrate on the inside of this cheek
we hold these truths make this force a tender gesture of inequality
sweeping the glass
I am drawn to the octopus above all others
ii.
I watch as you trace the blink angler fish in & out
between a rock & another rock
the trajectory of your features thundering aquiline
all the gathering masses what are you guessing
iii.
perhaps the offshore oil platforms // the red topper mocking the stars // in places you must move only by feeling // navigate between a rock & another // have you paid // another attention // to these forms // you know the game // the one where we hold our breath in the tunnel // a pause as long as the rim of square lights // lining the sides of the Caldecott // we stopped playing //after we heard about the man who died // holding his breath for 9 minutes // a contest at a community swimming pool // the pound of water & the rushing of muffled cries // subsumed in oyster cracker dry-mouth
tumbleweed thought down the pier
iv.
you took me to that beach little cliff off the highway
where the ocean hides
no one said anything
between cigarettes
we threw rocks to where the black tide should be
later you stood
in the shower for 10 minutes not moving
you couldn’t see me because of the fog
once my body felt like an altar // intimate rubble of // stone & glass
I could tell you were trying quietly fishing sand out of my wet ear in the dark
Posted 06/30/09