subarctic mariner

eyes see sails
silver linings

spume blown
over domed skulls
orca circle seals
a narrowing noose of death

batting tails
and battle cries.
and “jesus christ let it die.”
waves wash red ashore

tracery of wrinkles,
travel worn, shorn of pride
and humanity
on crimson tides

beating snow white
wriggling mass
to dumb death
no bullet holes

just ice harsh breath
The whack
of clubs
on soft blubber

diamond dark eyes
child’s cry
ice thick with red

subarctic mariner
ice crusted water
flows through
varicose veins

arms knotted chord
fraying rope
muscle wasted
on dry sand

hands merge in prayer
deep cicatrices
frost etched and brine bleached
to moroccan leather

desert stillness
cooks his innards
he is failing
from core to salt cured hide

he thinks of ice cracking
dark black tunnels
and the scream and blood
jar him from his dreams


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