Dark Sonnet II, revised

II



In horror of the groaning of the reef

At one more wave’s repetitive onslaught,

I listen to the outboard for relief,

A healthier racket than my jangled thought.

You there—do you cognate in straight lines?

Do thoughts follow each other, hand in hand?

Or is it that your insight’s without spines

Like a sea urchin’s skeleton on sand?

Vanilla life, vanilla in your veins,

Uncomplicated, unexamined days?

If only I could tender you the reins

To my life, could I sail through the quays

Untroubled, hoist martinis to the shore?

I’d give my soul for your white bread rapport.