|||
Above, the flying machine / wing tracks span between rowan and birch /
maintaining territory / new expansion /
the steel-trap beak a golden ratio curving into my nape
running, the snow’s metallic squelch / the air
a biting slobber of fermented shark / running
out of fur
and land.
ii
on volcanic seamounts
in the bioluminescence of the bone-house
*scale worms fight for the sky candle*
shimmering scales
of sequined armor
hang, ragged
& torn
like Grendel’s arm
as ancient mariners
dig through root cellars
blind as bats.
*is this a saga?
iii
your transparent skull
giant eye cast heavenward
suckers, tips, suction
/~~~~~~~
bummock keel the bruised dregs.
Kraken icebergs calved from glaciers leave melting footprints on the sea.
iv
My runic body casts no shadow / Have I outfoxed the sun?
