Ship of Knaves
Rivets in the eyes of fish hold God to the trading tide. Migrant birds hang from the binnacle. Rowdy words crowd the wind markets shuttlecocks stick in a milky net. Showerfuls of shouting biomass hiss shibboleths accessing Heaven.
Rivets in the eyes of fish hold God to the trading tide. Migrant birds hang from the binnacle. Rowdy words crowd the wind markets shuttlecocks stick in a milky net. Showerfuls of shouting biomass hiss shibboleths accessing Heaven.
Nothing in this short poem settles into a plain story, and that seems to be the point. It piles up strange images of a ship, a sea and a sky, and lets them clash. Fish have rivets in their eyes, as if living things have been bolted into machinery.
Read the full summary