Off that landspit of stony mouth-plugs,
Eyes rolled by white sticks,
Ears cupping the sea's incoherences,
You house your unnerving head—God-ball,
Lens of mercies,
Your
Plying their wild cells in my keel's shadow,
Pushing by like hearts,
Red stigmata at the very center,
Riding the rip tide to the nearest point ofdeparture,
Dragging their Jesus hair.
Did I escape,
I wonder?
My mind winds to
Old barnacled umbilicus,
Atlantic cable,
Keeping itself, it seems, in a state of miraculousrepair.
In any case, you are always there,
Tremulous breath at the end of my line,
Curve of water
To my water rod, dazzling and grateful,
Touching and sucking.
I didn't call you.
I didn't call you at all.
Nevertheless,
You steamed to me over the sea,
Fat and red, a
Paralyzing the kicking lovers.
Cobra
Squeezing the breath from the blood
Of the fuchsia.
I could draw no breath,
Dead and moneyless,
Overexposed, like an X-ray.
Who do you think you are?
A Communion wafer?
Blubbery Mary?
I shall take no bite of your body,
Bottle in which I live,
Ghastly Vatican.
I am sick to death of hot salt.
Green as eunuchs, your
Hiss at my sins.
Off, off, eely tentacle!
There is nothing between us.
