AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA

AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA

the cabin I once graced
now lies
at the bottom of the sea

seems it was something
of a cursed vessel

and where I am now
this semi-desert
an inland ocean once
paleontology
has determined

in the long long view
that tingle tremble
beneath your feet
may
   at the end of the day
be a matter truly
tectonic

I almost drowned
on a ship
in sea water
         the day before
it docked in harbour

thought I could swim
just sail majestically
across the water

me being
most water
     of all the water signs

sank
  like a stone, a thing
of lead

thought wrong

somehow feel that this is
not the last
episode in
an ongoing saga

me,
and the bottom of the sea

THE ART OF DROWNING

THE ART OF DROWNING

so many people
drowning themselves
getting drowned
in this Shelley family

save for Mary
I see Mary gaunt and
icy brilliant on an
Arctic ice floe
waiting for
the last act of humanity
to play out

myself
nearly drowned
or perhaps did
so should
not be
the one to talk

but Mary your story
still haunts, likely will
haunt forever

taunting us
with the humanity that
is death
is mapped out
aeons
into the future

soon to find itself
alive
in
the heart of the machine