MY HEART’S THE HORROR OF YOUR EMPTY SEA.

by Ernest Hilbert

I watch the rain from an alien shore.

The storm-lashed lagoon is small as a bathtub
This year. Reach in and pull up some sea junk,

A wrack of dynasties dissolved from the earth,
Gold spoils seeping from hulls of rusted scows.

The spiral stair winds up to a storm of light.
Manure soaks the chilly air. At least it’s spring.

You’re so far out you don’t know where you are.
For all you know, much worse may lie in wait.

You’re on your way. I know you’re drawing near.
What’ve I been doing all this time? Not much.

My song is one long song, and it’s out of key,
But what choruses—come on. Come sing with me.