Is The Sky
My father is the fisherman
Vassal of Poseidon’s tides
Older than Ulmo, older than Nereus
He is The Depths of the primordial seas
Carefully kept notes, maps, and charts strewn about Nia’s side of the library.
You said, Moonboots & spacesuits ain’t never made a man— True, however Nia said, Whosoever would be, alas, done already had at least one Muse clad in cowboy boots n’ denim.
My father is the fisherman
Vassal of Poseidon’s tides
Older than Ulmo, older than Nereus
He is The Depths of the primordial seas
I shall de-
sire you of more acquaintance,
Good Master Cobweb…
Each with a 33
contrarily tucked under their curling tails
for the Quadrupling quarterstitch
So, Where is it then
My silvertine friend
She said to a raven
She said to a loon
Dear A.I., How many times may a mind like mine be safely blown because I blow my mind every day and I’m thinking about going back to school…
a clock over the mantle and a clock over the kitchen, the rest of the house oblivious to time but for the paint cracking outside,
Just because
Keeping track of Timelords
As a shepherdess should
Is what she does.
…Did I say space? Because I meant…
Love,
PSL
Dear Ms. Rice,
The honeybees are here now giving
the clover a working over,
I’m only here to return some library books and pay the late fees. Oh, and run for coffee too.