Instruments of persuasion, laid before
the mind’s fear-blinkered eye.
A quill and some appointed relics, short-
lived show of hurry by the guardians,
quibblers, and fastidious bell-ringers.
Censoring voices flew about the strait,
the threat of torpedoes, the shark-sightings
in waters international with golden foam.
Coral-crowned and seaweed-wigged and better
left to paddle after cockles, meander
the maggot-trail from waistcoat to lupine
jaws, fingering half-afraid the loosened
clamp. No burrowed purse so rich with
body, vise on head and ball and nut
and peg. Scolding voices drowned the sorrow.
Shoaled by dreams, the dark ships poured
through the purr of buoys, sun flared a
rainbow of hammer-blows, all was lost or
given away in a single oxidized sigh.
A queen’s dim beauty showered release,
her ladies punching back at being spared.