and talks with its mouth full

of tapered ships deltas the bon voyage tube worms

It calls out in trains and crumpled paper

with its water engines it stores its voice in shells

Hypnotic as fire as it brings out wistfulness

and questions for the glassy shrimp

and sex-changing fishes Stilettos of thoughts

are honed on its splintered water lights

Corals beckon from cloud parishes

barnacles sea-squirts saltwater hearts

The more I look down from the dock I subdivide

to chapters of wonder gists contingencies

whole gamuts of liquid supposes what-if’s

dizzy ladders of sequiturs and floating egg jellies

tides between my thoughts and the breathing water

I evert with the sea cuke my shell goes soft

When I leave my body stays in a plankton dream

I drag off a home of ideas like a hermit crab

my head leaving a plow mark