Saturday, November 12, 2016

Sunrise with Sea Monsters

by Nick Thran 

To be drawn to a certain quality of abstraction.
The shape-shifting stains

on a monster’s teeth,
the miasmic wash
of a monster’s breath. To consider

monsters who emerged
at the crest of the wave
or in the valley that followed the wave

or at the crest of the wave
after that. The clock
next to the log

has sunk. The log
has sunk. The sun on deck is less
a summer’s morn’

and more like a diagnosis.

Had we chased them far enough from shore?
Were good ones lost?
Is to love this smeared image
a morbid love?

Why cast two eyes
on a sunrise like this?

Because otherwise only
a monster does. 

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