the last three lines

by Feng

EMILY KENDAL FREY

from SORROW ARROW

There’s oil in the plankton that lines the ocean

On the fifth morning you rise, air around you soft as islands

The white dog shits in the grass

You want your dream masts to rise

Oil covers the sloping lawn

The black dog eyes the roses

You want to put the cold egg of her breast in your mouth

Trash gilding the roadside bramble

You walk to the store

The first level of the food chain is contaminated

Giant rocks covered in oil

You sit in your body, quietly making blood

Wild blood

Bird of the world

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