by April 22, 2015 0 comments

Whales, like followers
of Jimmy Jones, give up,
drift, fall to shore,
some pregnant, some hungry,
all weak. On the beach
they show teeth, death’s
ghastly rictus, a grimace,
victims of some evil joke.
Those still alive emit
heart-wrenching sounds, a parody
of mating songs. No one knows why.

Like a tsunami, from earth’s
ruptured core, a wave rises,
and calm, order, peace, and purpose
are no more.

editors note:

Jimmy’s falsetto, not a lullaby; but, a cetacean cry. Wake up or suffer sleep eternal. – mh

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