By Francine M Storey
Copyright Pau 1 465 197
Winner Dylan Thomas Poetry Award at
The New School for Social Research


point your hands like a compass to down
and dive off the edge of madagascar
into the tea-warm indian ocean

as the fathoms widen before you
in a blue-green peacock's tail
elongate yourself like an eel
round and flat at the same time
then move your arms in great arcs
and descend along the path of broken sunlight

swim carefully through the hypnotizing seaweed
over the ragged battlements of tulip-colored corals
until at last, you pass
the ironwork of the continent
and you are below the world

here where the sun is repulsed
by the fist of pressure
blind fish like beggars
wait for alms
and the sea is a buddha
silent and dark

no progression
no regression
fullness flatness of tides
the eye in the throat beats the time
when the pupil is ready
the teacher arrives
for the coelacanth
fish of rounded gills and lobed fins
400 million years old
last inhabitant of the devonian sea

if he approaches
ask him
how did you survive?


Coming in from Search Engine - No Navbar Go to Coelacanth Home Page