Sunrise with Sea Monsters

by Stuart Ross

A horse sat down

on the bench beside me.

“Look at the bunny,” it said,

“leaping into the sun.”

Water is very popular. You can see through it. A horse and I noticed it in the distance. We couldn’t get enough of that fluid. It constituted much of us. We became unusually thirsty. When we tried to hang the water on our living room wall, it tumbled to the floor. There it did roil. Aye, it roiled.

Sunrise with Sea Monsters

by Peter Norman 

after Prostetnic Vogon Jeltz

Oh scale-shawled twineye

your undulations call to me

as krill-rimed finblotch

on barnacled monstrosity.

Groupers implore you

from jaw-girdled skulldome

(haplessly hung there

twixt crinkly fangtrusion)

that you decline to rend them

with heaving gobbersmacks

of gangleous codcruncher.

Likely you won’t.

Sunrise with Sea Monsters

by Ashley-Elizabeth Best 

In the morning's breath of mist I stare at the sea

that tells me nothing. I pound clothing into a scarp

of slatted rock, water seeping into porous stone.

The winds hunted howl of sound disguises his approach.

Calm with experience, my voice slowly breaks out of its

own heaviness.

He's promenading in the hang of blue fog, I conjure

the ground as I walk towards him. He's saying something

about god's that live in the trees but I know only of the sea.

I unbutton his shirt, uncover the wound so beautiful it is

forgotten in its loveliness.

He was smiling in the way I fear, shrugged himself nearer

like a thing waiting to be hurt. A gasp of time, pink forage

made a quick flush on my face where his mouth disgraced.

The tragic consequences of his presence suffocates, nearly

reveals the wealth of hate in me. What was Eve's apple of

choice? This must be mine.

There is much in me to be forgiven. My deciduous memory,

pleasure-flawed in the slow everlasting disease of grief.

I promise to tell him as much as I know.

The life in me trembles to the life in him.