Bob Fern's poem, "Whales," was originally published in Short Edition’s September '19 Rendez-Vous. Bob is a professor of neurobiology who lives in Plymouth England. Other than poems, his publication record is purely academic.

Image of General Submissions - Rendez-Vous, September 2019 issue

After, under the pylon,
power lines buzzing,
she told about sperm whales
that dive to such depths
the pressure and low oxygen
for the largest brain on Earth
is like asphyxiation sex

their bodies shrink and wrinkle
in the druggy pressure, they pound
sound waves to navigate,
the way we navigate a dream

the giant squid have arms like skirts
and dance out of reach as the whales
float belly-up, arch-backed
like a bolero, to draw them close
and blow a sound kiss to swoon
them and draw them like spaghetti
into their teeth

and the squid don't care,
because they have been loved.

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