THE LAUGHING BONE‎ > ‎WORD‎ > ‎POETRY‎ > ‎

Dark at 5:30 in the Maine Solitudes



The Lobster man
drifts in on
his million dollar boat.
A rumble of Upanishadic thunder
announces his presence
on the water.
Mercury strobes the spruce,
a single star abiding
over an indolent tide.

The God’s foot rises and falls
upon the broken spine
of the drunken man
Playing the piano to sleep,
head falling upon the strings
so slowly, only
The barest bones
of melody
can be conceived.

Dark at 5:30
in the Maine 
Solitudes.
I sit here in the cabin -
Captain Ahab
cast away upon an island,
Imagining a crucifixion
while a fire bellows
love's lovely blood.

The perfect rose
unfolding under 
unceasing Atlantic waves.
The wounded whale,
over-saturated with being,
downwards sinking.
In the wood stove next to me
I hear 
its inward breathing.