deepundergroundpoetry.com
Selachophilia
~from 2014
Aye!
Let them come...
those rude & angry points
of misplaced palaver,
let their tongue stones conjoin
to appreciate teeth.
(I only wish to love & die with the sea,
to garden in my coat shagreen.)
Subconscious breeze, blackened under
the blue-grey bullets, like a shark
of words with a silken pirate...
an eye on the coast, in the crabgrass,
a salt-licked high on the skin of a mountain:
a view from the beaten cliff,
a siren call of crashing rocks
crushed in hope for melodious death.
Villages immolate,
brightly
in the distance,
no discernable shout
from the torching hum:
complaining greaves in tetanus steel
hung dead on tufts of fur
gathering flies
ignorant of oceans,
shipwrecks & sharks with names.
Excoriate breath, sharpness-
storms direct to swim & snake
the heart of webbing hydras,
the dark below will seize my lungs,
the cruel above will knell unknown.
How I have wished to hold these teeth...
how I have gnashed to gaze the abyssal eye...
aye!
Unbidden thoughts-
a love or lust in the oxygen crawl,
a featheredge keening shattered in spray.
smoking wet
in the flame on the waves,
laughter drowned by a cry of ice
golden earth that presses flesh
pinioned mind from Sun & cliff,
no protection from my desire:
to drown inside this bite of brine...
let them come,
I hold my breath
with red-faced enmity,
deep in the dark
and admiring teeth.
I am on the plate
for a feast of love.
Aye!
Let them come...
those rude & angry points
of misplaced palaver,
let their tongue stones conjoin
to appreciate teeth.
(I only wish to love & die with the sea,
to garden in my coat shagreen.)
Subconscious breeze, blackened under
the blue-grey bullets, like a shark
of words with a silken pirate...
an eye on the coast, in the crabgrass,
a salt-licked high on the skin of a mountain:
a view from the beaten cliff,
a siren call of crashing rocks
crushed in hope for melodious death.
Villages immolate,
brightly
in the distance,
no discernable shout
from the torching hum:
complaining greaves in tetanus steel
hung dead on tufts of fur
gathering flies
ignorant of oceans,
shipwrecks & sharks with names.
Excoriate breath, sharpness-
storms direct to swim & snake
the heart of webbing hydras,
the dark below will seize my lungs,
the cruel above will knell unknown.
How I have wished to hold these teeth...
how I have gnashed to gaze the abyssal eye...
aye!
Unbidden thoughts-
a love or lust in the oxygen crawl,
a featheredge keening shattered in spray.
smoking wet
in the flame on the waves,
laughter drowned by a cry of ice
golden earth that presses flesh
pinioned mind from Sun & cliff,
no protection from my desire:
to drown inside this bite of brine...
let them come,
I hold my breath
with red-faced enmity,
deep in the dark
and admiring teeth.
I am on the plate
for a feast of love.
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