Like Drowned Divers

      Whatever sparring light marrs and death amends
                Pluck from the warring 
                Hollows of my hand;
      Whatever of cooing good life plunders to extend
5     And we wrestle like drunken divers to breakage
      Pull from the sounding mellows of my mouth
      Until death that takes all gives my stone tongue back.
      Whatever of love creeps from the lying wind
                Blows my coal, 
10              Lashed eyes to tears;
      Whatever care cracks from the cormorant docks
      Or discovering sorrow divots from the feathering shore
      And makes life spasm in the teeth of time
      Sights down the red waters of my blood.
15    Comfort and mother in my manhood hums
                And I break
           In the tide's sprawls awake;
      My black veins wreathed in the sea's last knock
      I strut my shivers to their grave-finding breath
20    Until, moon-man and bone-man, I rub my salt face off
      And lie down dying with my brother coral in the dark.

 

From the collection "Divine Revolt"

Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]

More information available on gregglory.com.