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.