Who Sings in the Deepest Water of the Abandoned Lagoon?

-Title after Pablo Neruda-

Fanciful creatures who inhale
water, and exhale ballads through
windpipes of coral and kelp,
lungs of sandstone and shells,
teeth of abalone, netted lips,
knotted hairs in tangled locks.

From Bottomland, one rose
and sang to me, his voice a
chorus all in one, of heavy doors
that would not open, their hinges
blazed in the fires of Hell.

He sang of six-legged beasts with
flipper arms that tossed him into
treeless air, of taloned birds that
bit his ears, and fed them to their young.

He held me in his weed-choked arms,
he breathed into my mouth,
and I began to sing to him but
there was no one there.

About Lucille Gang Shulklapper

A workshop leader for the Florida Center of the Book, the first affiliate of the Library of Congress, my poetry and fiction appear in journals and anthologies such as Still Going Strong, Orchard Press Mysteries, Common Ground Review, Poetic Voices Without Borders, Gulfstream, and Jerry Jazz Musician. I’m also the author of two poetry chapbooks: What You Cannot Have (Flarestack, U.K.), The Substance of Sunlight (Ginninderra Press, Australia), and one mini-chapbook, Godd, It’s Not Hollywood, ( SCWI Publications, U.S.A.) A picture book, Out of Bed, Fred, (Rain Publishing) will be released in October ’08.

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