Corey Mesler – Squidink

Corey Mesler


I write with seawater
because I was told
that it’s closest to blood,
you know, chemically.
I dip my old quill into the
swirling tide.  I had
in mind an ode
to a lost love, some golden-
faced girl with skin
like a silkie’s.  Instead I find
myself gazing off toward
the horizon where a lone ship sits,
near the curvilinear cooling
towers of a nuclear power plant.

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