Dec 28, 2011
"zoo sonnet," by dawn lonsinger
[and every creeping thing that creepeth]
the veined flood did not care what the mute sang and when he died into it, the event, gist boarded, feather and fang all abang in the hull, pupils wet wet, merely lent for the ride/tide/tidings. Carcasses lift up around us like advice, flotation devices. Leashes are of light & sift into us. Bewitched prey of salvation. Rumor has it the birds were there, calmly clattering on deck, drowning the whimpers below, but really the raised the balmy air like a flag, darkened the little lures Noah held in his fists, and then dispersed, water everywhere burning--total thirst.