SiStan ChapLee

Sunday, December 4, 2016

The 7 Days of CryAction 5: 202-270

Dolphins talk as have
both blood and lung
but no tongue to
shape their sounds.
There snort in sleeping
some slippery fish or
armored arachnids too,
even without eyelids
[210] to be lowered on
their tired sight;
but their relaxed rest
with swinging tails
informs the fisher
who won’t harpoon
but can catch them
and regularly ransacks
sea rocks and sands
to seize the specimens
[220] secretly sleeping.
Using sharpened iron
Sparus, Perca are caught:
deep in their Dormitio
they will hardly wake up,
sleep passes into death
from slight to endless sleep
almost inadvertently.
Dolphins and tremendous
whales while sleeping
[230] set on the surface
their spouting spiracles
and fluctuate on fins.
At dead of night rather
than any other time fish
sleep—easy in summertime—
when herds are reared
by Proteus in his ponds:
Pistrices and sharks
whose bed is weeds
[240] snore sonorously
with their chef-herd
who counted sea sheep.
But old fables fit better
somewhere else. I won’t
argue about Arion who
was helped by a dolphin;
nor deal with the love of
a bottle-nose for a boy
whose death destroyed it
[250] and defeated by grief
it passed away on sand.
If we refuse faith to
such tales, let us trust
Natural History where
piety is pedagogically
foretasted by fish.
Dolphins have udders
to breast-feed babies,
their wombs welcome back
[260] a son who seeks
shelter there when the sea
is darn dangerous.
Growing up sub gurgite
the son learns to swim
not afraid of foam
taught by his daddy
the signal of sailors,
so that seamen foresee
the War of the Winds
[270] and quit their cruise.

(to be continued on Dec. 11)