And then there was the pain

like an entity of hate,

moving like Mercury

to the deity of spring.

x

Into the abstraction

that is the solitary craft,

the layering of iron,

caulking every crack.

x

I am acute and starving

for bearings I do not understand.

Logical this instant, in

seconds in remand.

x

Jointed differentiation molds

me in regard to every question.

More stationed in time than idol worship,

proven in every sentence.

x

Orcas are hacking their cries

like blasted radio mistakes.

Shivering with the underwater darting,

not missed till missing for eight days.

x

The tilt of the boat,

floating like illness already,

easier than slipping into vagueness,

when fluctuating heat has steadied.

x

There is a home there,

between the bottom of the boat

and the top of the ocean.

Like a jester and storyteller

the little radio sings,

though never really touching it.

We are versatile things.