Today a whale beached
itself above your tongue.
All the oceans and its
breaking waves
held against your cheek,
the blue machine and its
swaying garlands of algae,
alive with schools of fish
and mermaids showing off
their breasts, singing hymns
about Poseidon’s cobalt
kingdom with its white coral
towers and seashell dancehalls.
She means nothing to me, I said.
That’s when your lips gave way
to the flood, and I saw the eye
of the blue monster stare at me before
I knew the darkness of its mouth.
DQ 3/20/09
