Sunday, June 7, 2015

Evolution

Others have come out of the sea, you know;
Venus and I decided enough was enough,
and who knows what all those fish and turtles and whatnot were doing,
how much of their little calling cards were mixing with the water.

You'd leave too, if you had an ounce of sense.

So anyway, a seaside town was kind of inevitable;
all there is is sailors, with their endless uniforms to be kept clean,
expecting you to wait for them, staring out of the window like a dork.
Not me, sister.

The moon pulls the tides,
the waves wash the beach--
and all the while the sirens sing
out of reach, out of reach.

I don't do requests. It's "As Time Goes By" or nothing.
Venus and I share a place in town, behind the take-out restaurant.
She walks around naked all afternoon,
then gets dressed at dusk, revving up her bike and taking off.

Me, I lock myself up in the darkroom with my pictures of people, blooms and bugs.

Sometimes I'm asked whether I miss the ocean,
but it hasn't gone anywhere; I'm not in it, that's all,
and I doubt it has ever missed me, not the way it should.
I'll call my book "Wet Foot, Dry Foot" in honor of my migratory nature.

Could you love a girl like me, do you think?
Check out these legs, I'm not a mermaid,
but when I close my eyes sometimes the world seems to sway,
as if it were made of palm trees and breeze.

The moon pulls the tides,
the waves make their soothing susurrant sound--
bold star bright, shy star behind
white on blue in the night, like clouds.
______

Fabulous photograph by Cloudia Charters and used with permission.

 

11 comments:

Cloudia said...

Wow, I never thought you would write a poem for and about me!

"Sometimes I'm asked whether I miss the ocean,
but it hasn't gone anywhere; I'm not in it, that's all,
and I doubt it has ever missed me, not the way it should.
I'll call my book "Wet Foot, Dry Foot" in honor of my migratory nature."

Yep, off the boat! And maybe more prophesy than you yet could know! Spooky Shay.



ALOHA from Honolulu,
ComfortSpiral
=^..^=

Maza said...

I just swooned, fell out of my chair, and broke my legs off. Now I'm just a head, a torso, and arms. What to do, what to do?

This kicks ass!

Quote Ables:
"You'd leave too, if you had an ounce of sense."
"I don't do requests. It's 'As Time Goes By' or nothing."
"She walks around naked all afternoon, then gets dressed at dusk"
*** "Me, I lock myself up in the darkroom with my pictures of people, blooms and bugs." ***
"Sometimes I'm asked whether I miss the ocean,
but it hasn't gone anywhere; I'm not in it, that's all,
and I doubt it has ever missed me, not the way it should."
"when I close my eyes sometimes the world seems to sway"
*** "the waves make their soothing susurrant sound--
bold star bright, shy star behind
white on blue in the night, like clouds." ***

Can't wait for the next one, Cat Angel.

TexWisGirl said...

loved it. (and love cloudia's photo, too.) you just wind us through a person's life so well.

Mama Zen said...

"Sometimes I'm asked whether I miss the ocean,
but it hasn't gone anywhere;"

I really adore that.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Absolute perfection. To the max.

Buddah Moskowitz said...

Gorgeous and poignant. How could one *not* love you? I esp loved this:
"soothing susurrant sound"

la la mosk

Sioux said...

It's "As Time Goes By" or nothing.

That tickles me.

Lynn said...

This is gorgeous and peaceful.

hedgewitch said...

This is one of those poem-tales of yours that takes us physically and mentally into another place--that is, after reading it, the reader is someplace else than where she started. They say we all began in the sea, the salt one becomes the amniotic one, and we always long for it somewhere in our cells--here, the title leads us up the evolutionary ladder, to Venus on a Harley instead of a half-shell, yet the story of the changeling is always the same story, just a question of which heartbreak will come. Superb writing here, Shay.

mac said...

Who could not love a girl like you?
Legs or no, you're swell :-)

K9friend said...

This piece seems very soothing to me, almost like the ocean.

Pat
Critter Alley