Sunrise with Sea Monsters

by Heather Cadsby 


I’m older than I was at your winter sunrise.
Old friend. Lost
in our badboy days. Hello.
Hello ten thousand sounds.
Beethoven is deaf. Turner has cataracts
and we sit in silence at this
Carrickfergus countdown to sea sunset.
A couple of monsters with poor love records.
No bridge over. Not quite yet.
Did you hear a lady laugh just then, he said.

Sunrise w/Seamonsters

by Stevie Howell

6/8

It’s Spartan, to try &

fall asleep at dawn in

the bed of a man you

just met. Different birds

cry in other arbors,

disparate gold glows from

the same sun. The whale song

of regret sets sail through

temporal lobes. A boat-

load of ghost notes

.

.

I’ll call you tomorrow.
Or some time. Or I won’t.

Sunrise with Sea Monsters

by James Lindsay 

Was the face intentional, or were you practicing flexing

your pure medium of middle light? The obscure pink swirl

probably depicts fish, speculates The Tate. A sign of scurvy

in a seaside town waiting for the end. In 1906 the National

Gallery gave the incomplete work title and focus. Corporeal

consequence for an optical illusion, atmospheric conditions,

a golden Om interpreted as water because you adored water,

and later, whalers. England was obsessed with sea monsters,

and you were treating a tooth ache with acetate of morphia,

reconnecting the shrapnel of leftover delirium into a Pangea,

momentarily abstracting romanticism to expose a flattened
amber ambience; a frog face hanging in a honeyed diamond.

Sunrise with Sea Monsters

by Michael Holmes 

Bernie Sanders is what happens

when every kid gets a trophy

Thinking, we have to stop apologizing

I’m sorry, Johnny Canuck says

for being America

Gynecomastia Doctor Frank Lista

might level the playing field for shirts and skins

but for the Zarley Zalapskis among us

the alphabet’s a life sentence

Those are my skee ball tickets

my innie James Harrison says to my outie

Raymond Babbitt, my CTE and NRA

(my Serious Injury Book is a red book too)
my NPD chickadee, my Macy’s parade

Sunrise with Sea Monsters

by Pearl Pirie 

a thousand cuts, cold sleet

makes me immortal 

since it does not kill me.

maybe I weaken.

maybe I am sombre 

as an escalator after hours.

write what you no

no, no. the unknowable,

the honest to gaslit truth.

aren’t all pauses pregnant 

and is not noise 

the birth control of ideas?

words point forward, not 

prophetically but profitably

not for profit but for gain. 

consider what you consume

its cleanliness. do like 

the racoon and wash

before consuming.

Sunrise with Sea Monsters

by Sylvia Legris 

 

Glacier maybe. Unholy.

Wormwood of Garden and Sea.

Mars-governed, midsummer.

The muzzy gumline summons

gods of bad dreams. Earache-haze,

stormy stomach, mugworty sunrise.

Tonic the waters with febrifuge and

anthelmintic. Artemisia absinthium—

leechdom-ruse, gastric subterfuge.

Take with wine for the poison of ixia,

with honey for dullness of sight. A crush

of buckthorn and lolium, rose-wax and fig,

for jaundice and gas, dropsy, spleen. To slay

a slew of shrewmice, prophecy of sea dragon,

brew with passum and saltpetre, rosaceum.

Sunrise with Seamonster

by Jeramy Dodds

From Crabwise to the Hounds, published by Coach House Books, Toronto, 2008.
Photo by Jeramy Dodds, used with permission.

Sunrise with Sea Monsters

by Gary Barwin 

waves braille in anticipation

furl the fog of spirketting hope

the wished-for steeve goes walty 

fear-buffeted and storm gold

cloudy angerhole right she bleed 

bilgey chock of burgee breams 

bunting must be tied bower down 

brailed to the bitts 

the mind gasps bottomry 

pulls thole and saffron trunnel

ballast what shite cambers cofferdam 

sad cocket of breath we