I broke off the dangling shrub and inserted it above my ear.
Bent in at the belly I sweated, to fit to try to fit.
The dangling shrub was bruised
It moved a little move and Lady Song-of-Jamestown
said in my hear: Why is broken.
leapt a leafy thwart
into my thinking vessel the aluminum canoe
and in my here said Lady Song-of-Jamestown:
"Why its smelters long ago felled at The-Task-Is-
Incomplete, a falling
artist felling them name of
who wears crown of shells partly concealing
a turban of layered light."
I stared straight ahead, paddling
My canoe walls hung with barkcloth a giant dentalium
and four figureheads in lignified paste (We watching).
The ivory one, called Tapping-Out-of-Time.
And the dark muscular one, Below-the-Galleon-Decks.
And the remembered one named, Palm-Thatch-Floor.
And the little one called, Fruit-of-the-Distant-Weep
(mothered black, from sleeping).
Lady Song-of-Jamestown mending her fishnets
pulled the water-hook from my hand.
Copyright © Shane Book 2014