We have been here before
where Duracell bodies
of two beached whales melt
into the wefted tongues
of the sea. Into the rocks
glommed and knobbed with night
struck out by the daily occasion;
the sun announcing its spines.
Some fish hurl themselves into the open
jaw of air. Breathless
and meshed into what steals them
from their gills.
The water holds both
light and grit in the body that is
the vestigial shore, the smooth current.
an extant text belonging to the
On: September 25, 2015