Whale Wail

Whale Wail / Benjamin Rozonoyer

— for Phillip Neal Tippin

Verifiable, real thrill,
to carry with me the krill.

Aquinas, hast thou not spilt
a kilobyte from a quill of ink?
Convinced that the globe is flat,
thy superposed whale won’t sink.

A gam of blues whales pass
the gap where the sand creek flows —
a shadowy shallow place
where lives with its likes the Goose,
or limps in its lieu the Ghost.

Jonah
as he was sinking
saw from below
what his thoughts were thinking:

the whale filling,
            the living kneeling,
                         the ceiling tipping.


Whale Wail: Copyright 2021 by Benjamin Rozonoyer. All rights reserved.

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