by A. Pseudonym

this orient tide come occident:

this roll of wreck and reckoned

eyes that fathomless are found

or made to find her keep within

the tight shut shell in soundings

deeper than the plumblined soul


these western waves gone east:

these forgone waters waking dim

pulled out to sea by moondrawn cord

and raked across the whale's back

stabbing at his afterlight like

Jacob sleeping on a stone