Saturday, November 20, 2010

Sharks

The skins we'd splayed whipped
from their nylon cords. We dropped
the cliffs and buggered out; the tent
was lost. Black ropes of sky
swayed from our ears like kelp. Our steps
made pits and waned and fell
and waned and fell and were undone.
I jumped
the rise; when I got up, there you were,
white as time. Then
sharks sang in my guts, unchanged,
unphased, ten billion years.

Black mussel, I've been silent, but I have not been
unseen. Inside the sea-green husk,
things have been
going on.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

A Nearly Naked Man

Why have you worn shoes in the shower?
It was a choice you made upon realizing that you forgot your sandals...
an easy choice, given the amount of foot traffic in this locker room...
an easy choice, after learning the hard way.