Note From My Moleskine #10

August 31, 2009

17 August 2009
Owl’s Head, ME

The islands are shrouded in
mist that cannot be burned away
no matter how hard the sun tries
to fix their lumps and spines with names
sitting here inside the bridge
of sloop Jake D.
I see pimples zits and
pockmarks on the surface
of the sea
The buoys hold their places
caged below:
cannibal lobsters
caged below:
sea urchins’ sexual parts
caged below:
money, money, money,
to fix the truck
to pay the mortgage
to get us through
to get us by.
The sun fights with the fog.
Inconclusively.
Green crabs hide,
they scuttle in and
about
and around each other.
they pinch my fingers
they eat my toes
the salty brine washes away
my blood
seasons my toes
like beef
Take my toes, I think,
The sea does not own me;
This is charity.

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