White Expanse Of Wave
Language, you ocean,
I wrote of you.
I wrote ocean once.
Cradled endlessly, erased you.
I dipped a ladle in;
Came back with civil slitherings.
I dipped a ladle in again;
It came back melted to the handle.
Ocean, you language.
I stick my stick into you.
It was smelted by blacksmiths.
Once, in your slither things,
I made new wither things. Feathered things.
We were workshopping, university testing
These slitherings, testing your ocean
Viscosity to make better ladles
So that others never venture
To you, you ocean, eel-infested mother,
Majestic you, coral-scape
With that math un-mapped
We make you last
With words we just record
All the bloodthirsty sharks--
But really poetry is just making new
And incredible ladles
Scoops, dozers, plastic upon plastic spoons
Ways to measure infinites into recipes
Joseph Victor Milford is an english professor, radio host, father, and guitarist living in small-town Georgia. His first book, Cracked Altimeter, was published at BlazeVox Books in 2010. He is known by many hunters in his zip code as the literary Sasquatch.
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