What the Lesser Water Boatman Had to Say

What the Lesser Water Boatman Had to Say

What the Lesser Water Boatman Had to Say

Think of a space where light folds into a hem
now suppose movement
algae nesting buoyancy  quiet as underneath
callow   away from human sides

a past so dense      which happened only to us
I wish to know things    other than ghosts
     endlessly    translating water    into sound
insecta pond prisoner to be here is to be there

but you with your symbols golf courses drinks
cabinets    bring us down    what is it you want?
Skin tone overseers    manic brutes     bullet hungry
& burning      where did you rehearse?

I ruminate on those returned before arrival
     finished    by a spit-born weapon   once
I spoke against darkness my punishment to be shunned
with the backswimmers & plankton

we pick cartilage from the ribs of our sorrows
we     the unheard of   struck
the opposite of wheat      how the smallest things
        learn the conceit of a microscope’s lens

the cold of the Mariana Trench    a fisherman’s regret
what do you know about me?     My name a second face
a spell of mirrors    old hands wiping the body down
what have you seen born?   What have you seen die?

The rain’s duped the Astro Turf again    the end
lives inside   everything    still you assume
I swim backwards   towards my loss   when
I move forwards   towards my tide   title:   Lesser

subject of the Metazoa who sings from the spot
     for the strange storms  lusting flotillas
the black          running
          translating water     into sound.