The Slick
Oil spreads a night over the sea,
Sealing fish in swim.
Perhaps one, spinning up in its locked dream,
Rises to suck at light.
The salt-clean gills draw smoke:
The heart thickens;
The white gut-spiral skirls.
Clogging, fish angles foreign air,
Streaks down
Choking out chains of rainbow.
Skinless eye still clear,
Ushered up sleepier
In oxygen estrangement,
Belly lent to air.
Claremont, The Grain No. 9, 1969