 |
photo,
courtesy of Ian Welch ©
|
the
bark-cagians
they
are all that is left
of
a race of us
that
are said
to
have had
the
loud feral
genetic
markers
of
heavy metal exposure
a
recessive coupled denial
one’s
own freewill entombed
for
survival, gambling
against
mitochondrial armies
protease
paddling cilia
our
limb-ed histories
are
woven destinies
they
are what we seize
what
opportunities
are
the chances
we have
taken
each
hand dealt
every
pocket lightning
and
thunder taken to jars
plastic
everywhere
on
the sky is a brine
for
even a Winter Sun
can
spell cancer
for
northern folk
we
broad-leaf naps
and
dream of melanin
under
our hats visiting
ice
cream stands
with
time stretched
in
the light
of
the warm tilt
bending
of Summer
at
carnival season
permeating
the air
lashing
itself along
the
plank wood
and
clap signs
of
our boardwalks
it
sings a fast
uneasy
and greasy
song,
by the sea
EJR
©
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