"I may be some time," he said,
easing on his fleece-lined boots.
We laughed and clinked ou
... [+]
We build our homes
From sailors' bones
A crown conch amplifies their screams
From grooves carved well
In scallop's shell
The sound brings sirens' sweeter dreams
Their femurs frame
Each window pane
The pelvic girdles top our stools
With gut-stitched ribs
We craft our cribs
And mobiles twirl with human tools
Their vertebrae
It's safe to say
Looks lovely ‘round eel garden beds
Our darling pets
Play in the mess
Of skulls from their discarded heads
We take delight
In sailors' fright
Because our trust begat regrets
We used to bathe
Above the waves
But lost too many to mens' nets
From wrecks ashore
Our cries implore
For seaborn captives' safe release
Unless ships sink
They will not think
Nor let our sisters live in peace
They plot a course
To take by force
We say come here to sate that wish
They fight and cough
Their life sluffs off
The rest is fuel for crabs and fish
With fingers webbed
We preen the dead
And pry free any hint of gold
We claim what's theirs
The merchant's wares
And all the treasures in the hold
A windless gale
We sirens wail
While gathered in a cryptid throng
To save such grief
Avoid the reef
Don't interrupt our mournful song
From sailors' bones
A crown conch amplifies their screams
From grooves carved well
In scallop's shell
The sound brings sirens' sweeter dreams
Their femurs frame
Each window pane
The pelvic girdles top our stools
With gut-stitched ribs
We craft our cribs
And mobiles twirl with human tools
Their vertebrae
It's safe to say
Looks lovely ‘round eel garden beds
Our darling pets
Play in the mess
Of skulls from their discarded heads
We take delight
In sailors' fright
Because our trust begat regrets
We used to bathe
Above the waves
But lost too many to mens' nets
From wrecks ashore
Our cries implore
For seaborn captives' safe release
Unless ships sink
They will not think
Nor let our sisters live in peace
They plot a course
To take by force
We say come here to sate that wish
They fight and cough
Their life sluffs off
The rest is fuel for crabs and fish
With fingers webbed
We preen the dead
And pry free any hint of gold
We claim what's theirs
The merchant's wares
And all the treasures in the hold
A windless gale
We sirens wail
While gathered in a cryptid throng
To save such grief
Avoid the reef
Don't interrupt our mournful song