Burning the Boat

BURNING THE BOAT
February 10, 2009

The sun ignites the
keel upturned against
the house to keep
the weather off and away and out
of the daunting insides
and I see seaweed, hear
the seashells cry with
mews and surf and then
I see the fin
and the glint of living rubber
and hear the gnash of
pointed swords in a maw
too massive to hold them
all, digging into the
gunwales and a wail
breaches the brine-splashed air
and it sounds so far away,
mangled in the horizon,
but it’s me
bawling into the licking,
lashing, leering flames
that bite the boat into a
submissive ferrous heap of
burning embers
that the sun started.
I swear.