Seaside

Brian Pohanka

(for D.)

I search for
nets half-buried in the sand
Under the eyes of a
dark infant on the shore
whose barefoot cries
overlap both wind and sea--

Are you here too?
I desire you
I reach for you . . .

My hand ignores the ugly wire fence
and fingers concealed grasses
entangling wet driftwood
then on to seaweed's slick delight--

Abstracted
I straddle anonymous bones of mermaids
kissing the Sun . . .

Soft ocean
you are flesh
I rest my soul upon your gentle breast
and here is my mouth
Do you accept me?
Shall you sip my tears?

Wait
hose-off your salt--
it tastes like a woman
while the pink wine is bitter . . .

Recumbent
slowly sinking
I drown without remembering
that fishes are the tragic ones.

 

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