Whales

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.

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.

© Short Édition - All Rights Reserved

17

You might also like…

Poetry
Poetry

Dinosaur Seeds

Dawn Vogel

I find Jackie in the garden, digging holes with a stick in a section of the flowerbed that's gone to weeds. "Whatcha doing, kiddo?""Planting dinosaur seeds," she says, beaming up at me. She uncurls ...  [+]

Poetry

Venom

Allison Midgett

How does one god kill another? I contemplate this as I sit perched on my web, tucked beneath the shadow of the birdbath. He makes his rounds, scrupulously inspecting each row of tulips before moving ...  [+]