9 – In the Drain Trap

Just full-bore rambling, children; this works so much better when I have no idea what the fuck I’m talking about. There’s some kind of life lesson in that.

Something about the ocean, and maybe pollution and climate change a bit. I guess I imagined what a mermaid would have to say, if they existed and were in the oceans now. I wondered if she would be angry. I wondered if swimming might become very unsafe.

I’m getting a lot of mileage out of my old Photoshop art here, at least the less terrible ones. In art as in the environment: reduce, reuse, reanimate. Necromancy is a green policy, and we’re committing to getting 65% of our energy production from skeletal minions by 2020. Okay, I’m definitely rambling now. Hit the Poem Button.

A photomanipulated image in shades of blue, of a multi-armed mer-creature uncomfortably confined in a bathtub.
“Scylla,” mine, April 2008

Sinking past afternoon into evening,
into the depthless night where we reside.
We’ve kept all the things you asked us to hide –
would you like them back, now that you’re leaving?

Scissors dropped while running – here in the sand.
Pools of blood that you shed in your wars –
shout if you see someone you’ve seen before –
a couple loose nails from some martyr’s hand.

Everyone will drown – that’s where we begin.
Step two – the pressure you feel on your chest.
Step three – peer down at the dregs of your sin,
tell your last fortune in our spilled entrails.
When you meet your God, please give him our best,
and show him the planet you fought to win.

Check out the rest of the 100 Sonnets

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