SONNET TO THE CRAB THAT BELEIVED IT WAS A DRUM.

I

RUMBLE THE EARS ON AN EMPTY LATE WITH RAIN.

THE ECHO OF AN OLDY DRUM, CRAZY, LIFELESS…GONE.

DRILLED BY REDOUBLED HITS, HURT RESOUND AND PAIN.

CRIED THE GHOST OF A DISGUISE WAR, ARMLESS…ALONE.

II

TOUCHED THE DEPTH, SLIPPERY, FULL OF SEAWEEDS AND STONES.

SWAM SEBASTIAN AGAIN, PLENTY OF LIFE, BEHIND A BLONDE MERMAID.

PLOWED ITS CLAWS THE DOMAINS OF ANCHORS AND BONES.

SEARCHING THE AIR, THE MAGNET  OF NORTH, ITS STAR, DRESSED OF SCALES…AFRAID

III

DREAMING AGAIN, TO IMAGINE ITS DESTINY.

ITS EYES, STROKE THE CREST OF A GREENLY WABE.

FELT ITS  BLOW, SACRIFICING ITS ENTITY.

IV

NAILED ITS CLAWS, NERVOUS, LIMP, BATHED OF RED AND SAND, AFRAID

GLANCING THE WEST, THE EAST, AND SAW THE STAR OF NORTH.

DRESSED OF EMERALD GREEN WITH OPENED FINS…ITS PRETTY BLOND MERMAID.