What I Saw
I saw the carcasses of the seals, pelts
laid next to them like a stack of paper.
Covered under a blue tarp on the docks.
On the wood floor blood seeped through the spaces
Their vital fluid returning back home.
Exotic traders like ballerinas
graceful, strong, loaded the pelts in the boat.
The veil had forcefully ripped from the skin
The skin is the veil now used by humans.
Coins dropped to new hands, and a smile now cut
across the man’s face, it was frightening.
Smooth and jagged at the same time, poor things,
ill fate, some leftover specters of blood.
The bodies are only half there, not full.
Maybe they are floating on the water.
You would have to dive deep down to see them.
As if they were alive in swimming, no,
it was just the current gently wishing
a prayer that they find sanctuary.
I never noticed those traders again.
I saw many other things on the dock,
but not that group of men they disappeared.
They are probably at another port
with someone else running into them there.
One tear shed for each could make a small sea.
The innocent can depart and they shall
it's a frightening tragedy to watch.
Animals slaughtered brutally without
mercy or sorrow. They perish in land,
expire in fire, or croak in the water.
What Did You See?
For Peter S.
I saw the shrouds of prisoners
like baptismal gowns
buried outside the cemetery.
On the canvas frills exhaled
singed wool and cardboard.
The angels arrived as lace.
Took notes, then stuck. Awful residue
from a small cut.
•
The veil has been ripped from the skin
where it was burned in.
The skin is the veil, the baby-material,
imprinted on, as if
one dropped the handkerchief
and it was one’s wrist.
The cuff is frightening.
Stuffed onto oil.
Water-stains might fence its ghost in.
•
“The barbed wire complex”
I understand.
Winged and flattened
at the same time, poor things!
Some leftover specters of blood.
Remember Blake’s figures like columns
with heads
looking around for God?
When events are not as random
as they seem.
•
The article of clothing
is only half there, it’s not full,
but when it falls forward, it is.
Terrible emptiness of the spread
neckline and little sleeve.
Half-cooked squares.
Was this religious fire
and is this where it passed?
Maybe they are floating on water
of paint, pool-sized,
blue and ridged like foam.
You would have to fly
to see them flat as a map.
The rib and hem. Rained on
for eons. Noah’s children’s
floating forms.
•
Angels die?
It’s a frightening-miracle
because here they are.
The Upper God
has let them drop
like centuries into space.
And I recognize them!
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