Sunday, January 20, 2013

Dolphy of the Coasts

Just when we thought the greensward full
Lasty was called to the coast
that fled downsea in ships
to train green Dolphy for coming
dives, hunts, jumps.
That big heart fellow
had a need of a man,
to hone the dolphin bill,
bounce ball, whistle, tweet.
Back and forth he goes,
a beauty to behold.

Lasty last conversed the dolls,
who said mama, mama end to end,
when boy doll Nick, who also said drink,
in the midst of three grown athletes
contained his jumps to sofa, table, chair,
lept floors then hid in momma's arms,
cried "mama" when it came time for shots,
or when zookeepers put back on its clothes
like chicken feathers or the possible cow.
Lasty's dolphins were black and blue
they worked so hard to get a point.
Would the marine layer clear?

In the pattern of the dust
when lion and dolphin lay to rest
where before they leapt,
tucked fins far out at sea,
the further out
the further in they crept,
a string wound tight in day
with ceramic red foxes,
walls and floors that decorate,
inset with jewels, lit with light
available for a song when you lie down.

No comments:

Post a Comment