"Morning Light in the Faroes", and by Faroes, it's
the Faroe Islands.
The night holds the sun in its mouth.
A spine of tide lifts and the monster opens its eye.
The island splits the encrusted skin.
Blood oozes from the wound and wets the rock face.
The soon-to-be-carcass flies in agony over the white fiery
tongues of the depths, boats pour out from its lips
and drive toward land shoals of sunlight.
"Song".
On this night I think about someone from my past
because I have risen to the song of the pearl oyster.
The angel of booze has whispered in my ear
like spinning could mean a pinwheel inside a rock frieze,
you lived the fast life of a shooting star
but could not scatter or plunge into the sea.
I walk below on the beach where Baldur's Eyelash grows
I see a flash from the sky that falls into a flat sea
and then the golden world of sand
opens I can hear the plashing oars of strange vessels coming
to punish me for this song, warm angel.