11 September 2008

Pickling Liquid, Large Glasses

The main mast of a ship, white
sails cresting distance

in response to it. Carry-
ing on with a list, tries to

carry away, and to dispel it's gasses
on strong trade winds, but can't.

A stain upon the small lead,
green it seems to mine

eye, encircled by a bird
who's flying low, eyeing the ship

with hungry eyes, no irony
and no surprise. It has

a medical meaning in it's wing
feathers. Its fluffy down spreads

particles of preservation. Leaves
trail of picked fish when fly'ng

it lands upon the crows-nest then
alights.