dancesofzola

index |e-mail Richard Zola | links |prev |next |jumpfwd |jumpback

poem141 poem142 poem143 poem144 poem145 poem146 poem147
poem148 poem149 poem150 poem151 poem153 poem154


no only feathers and exhalations

a cormorant leaves the sea
sea falls from its feet
you stop talking
about the evolution of the phonograph
you kneel fill your hand
with water & sand
the wind fills your mouth
with hair
the sea fills the hollow
made by your hand
your skirt absorbs the sea
until you stand
removing hair from your mouth you say:
the beach is not diminished.
& in dry sand
you bury wet
you feel the slime of weed
between your fingers
the cormorant waits on a rock
removing hair again from your mouth
you say:
don't hold that stick
it's been in a mongrel's mouth
don't hold that stick
& then touch my face.
the cormorant leaves the rock to your left
& disappears into the water
the sea has stopped dripping from your skirt
the flesh on your arms
is lifted by small hairs
your mouth is dry
apparently
& your lips
do not move easily
over your teeth
the sea is behind you now
& you say:
there are no caves here
no red stones made of glass
no carrion crows
or objet d'art
only 3 shoes on a rock
& 1 fallen
Abstract image


_____________________________________________________________________________________________

All content © Richard Zola 2001.
Site design by Lancresse Web Design