This poem is taken from PN Review 177, Volume 34 Number 1, September - October 2007.
Two PoemsClearing the Florida Coast
A gauze of blue tiles - contradictions at 8 a.m.,
the harvest of ascent. A quiet sea broken
by two white troughs, yacht calligraphies.
A horizoned stare thickens the air
into a white arctic depth hovering
over the soon Bahamas. Climbing still,
the plain illusions pull away like worn bandages.
Having dozed a watch-confirmed four minutes,
my eyes now settle on a smaller vaster sea,
pudding skinned. What dreams make boil
no stirring will calm. Nata in Spanish, the creamy
shell of boiled milk. Born indeed. Culled cells,
like all the quick, are urgent to claim breath.
Embryo is raised by the weight masonry
of living, that lurch to creature that drives
...
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