bare life

with my underwater

eyes i can see

bare life here:

it spawns in vents of

pure heat, silt streams

that reach for the sea’s

ceiling, cools in 

the new light of the sun,

then caught in the frenzy

of unbounded waves, crushed

at the edge of sound;

near the land, chipped and

broken into coastal inlets

that plead for the rich wash

of salt in its pores and harbours.

It soaks up the water

that comes fast,

tripping over itself,

falling off a quaking shelf,

holding it close to its breast;

and shuttling overhead,

lice on a blue scalp,

crop dusting drones parade

in the sky. These are shades,

eclipsing dune, tidal pool, and

the river that shoulders down the hillside,

the floating globe is reduced to a roving eye.