Dorchester, MA

A tidal hope reveals the field
of mice below the waves.
their antenna wave in the current.
they glisten, dressed in jellyfish.  They
pirouette and pirate hot moves from
all the graceful water animals.

Is there hope for us, as the swimmers feel +
plough through the best waves,
tenant to the ocean's wet lick, its currency
of salt an abrasive mother cat tongue, or catfish?
Black tongue you wriggle through the mice, your moves
beautiful in awkwardness.  Yes.  An animal hope

That waters the lilies of the choppy fields,
that has the skills to pirate the dull + despair.  It waves
to strangers.  It looks forward to breakfast of current
jam and toast.  It eats a plateful of fresh fish,
willing and able to stomach the contradictions in moving
from fish as friend to fish as foe, because, after all,
we are both god and animal.