Suited to the world
A world composed
And fossil- surfaced
Are shades
Of ocean roil
My office
Clangs for help
Through the passage
Secret copies harden
What a very
Molten paradise
We plow
Saying now
It’s up to me
And all
That fishy aspect
The factory ships
Arcs of reason
Long lines
To bottom
Line
Captivate
Gulfs of diatoms
Coursing without
Current
Light trails
At the speed
Of knots and bows
Marking the twine
Ahead!
Tom McGlynn
copyright 2015
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