Time circling (scurrying)
for one of these towns
with low hanging green clouds for a sea wall.
Leatherback sea turtle caught in a shrimp trawl
cast longline gill net.
Wax of our expansion
dripping messages from the haunted mansion
of our mind. Captain curving ‘cross
spinal cartilage a color of
just when it’s no longer bloody garnet
you throw in some chopped
garlic. The wrong way is the wrong way
until it’s the right way? Lapping
merlot off the mahogany. Making love
to our table arguing with us. Angry sex.
Olive oceans coming back for us
undiscovered wrecks
reassuring as old cars in Havana.
As an unimportant out of work clerk writes
I DID NOT LIKE MY WORK
but I had to pretend and now I don’t.
On our birthday
coming again from some sugary salt of sea
in a different form
transferred into jellyfish.
The surgeon never waits. The squirrel—omnivorous.
What a year ago was the wish of sci-fi,
our sex organ par excellence,
is already reality. Taking on the burden.
Eating itself, time, we are this animal.
Scurrying along trees
of time. Itself. Not a line.
Wax wall. Candles.
