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sweat haze glue
by Jared Fladelandthe shark sits there
playing poker versus the wind
and his teeth are razor sharp
in this head to head.
the scent of chum
reminds me of my open wounds
gushing into the bucket;
the shark is stirring the crimson
with his pointer finger, occasionally
licking the sea with a blood red tongue.
a gust
knocks him back
with the gentlest hush of a summer breeze
and he scuttles back into the ocean
with his fin tucked between his legs. 06/24/2010 Posted on 06/24/2010
Copyright © 2026 Jared Fladeland
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Therese Elaine on 06/24/10 at 11:44 PM Jared, this is absolutely creepy and unsettling...exceptionally vivid imagery but vague enough that my imagination makes it a hundred times more disturbing!! |
| Posted by Glenn Currier on 07/12/10 at 04:14 PM I hear the woundedness and the fury of a perpetrator, but that last stanza speaks someone who is not allowing the perp too much power and sees his or her ultimate weakness and flaws. Fascinating piece, Jared. |
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