Leviathan

Love of air and water
Joined in apprehension,
perhaps you know what's there
By way of fear, for while

Living in pursuit of
And always going forth
Toward something that trembles,
Its knowledge is your mind.

What do you think about
The great ocean's sullen
Aristocrats--these small
Headaches and dark affairs

That bathe themselves in your
Staging grounds, where you go
To contemplate how what
You want became your mind?

The black oblivion
Offers no reprieve for
You, hunter--in its keep
Your ears have grown too sharp,

So sharp you almost hear
Your own heartbeat over
The subtle whispers of
Water's dismal gardens.

Everything about you
Is overblown, even
Your mouth is uniquely
Talented at its tasks,

Gathering for slaughter
Animals in their sleep,
Speaking without a sound.
Noah had seven laws,

You only have one--eat
To build life out of death,
Survive above all things.
The fatalistic moon

Filtered down upon you
Seems like an imitation
Of lives you will not live.
Would you be its hero?

Would you call out against
The morning's weaving light
That shames the night before
The passing of its cool?

Would you be at the beach
When the invisible
Becomes a glow, to surprise?
Inland, workers dreaming

Of unitarian
Proposals lose no sleep
To fear about your mouth.
It is their wayward friends,

Who wandered too far west
Into fevered chaos,
That wake up with your name
As screams exploding dreams.

The inland ether holds
Clouds in your dismal shape.
Lucky are those who know
Nothing, who cannot see

Hell outlined in vapor.
Somewhere a piano
Plays a sorrowful song
half-written by the hate

That a grieving loved one
Would stick into your heart.
Such are the arts of men.
Beware. Your time is near.

Someone has learned lessons
You didn't mean to teach.
A crowd is gathering.
Your skull is their kingdom.