Black anemones
Her eye-lashes were black anemones, heavy dark
Persephone watching at the gates
A spark shot through the glass, then another
As my consciousness faded or
Rather
Dissipated in sleep.
My hair was made of black anemones, carnivorous
Medusae, turning thought into stone, sky and air
Sun that shone.
It’s not fair, a megalomaniac picture of yet one more
Discharge of chemicals; at the shore,
A flock of walruses screamed their agonal
Mating
Cries.
