shark tank

Posted by Erik Moshe on Saturday, April 7, 2012 Under: Poetry

Wading deeper

You arrive at a plateau frilling with water monks
There are no coral reefs, but floral sheaths
and shields made from shells smithed from Icelandic earlobes
an atlantian artillery causing thirst pangs

At first, pain

then a reassuring sense of wet feet,
submerged until your eyes glaze over in aquamarine enamel
and bubbles come sputtering from your mouth like arachnids from a sinkhole

Sewer workers in a suburb
prying the barbs from the soles of their boots
Taking the lily pads out from under their eyelids
To see the world as more than a biomechanical swamp
With ecosystems, predators, predecessors and prehistory

Pearls harden, teeth penetrate - water swirls
Waves crush stone and sea monsters manipulate waves
The circle of life is a morbid pie graph
Brave is the man who attempts to divide it into sections…

Starting a makeshift fire in the belly of a whale
is harder than one might think
The wood is soaked in more than just saltwater
Your stomach churns in a stomach, churning
You will
Not get out
There is no
Pinocchio blowhole scene

Contradictory on many levels,
he was a nautical wildebeest
but without the gills to breathe or the sails to coast
so now he floats in the dead tides, dead tired

In : Poetry 

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