Friday, December 27, 2013


I have released the kraken once, released
Its tentacles to twist and tear, its beak
To reach and rip. I can't control the beast.
The tears and sweat ran down my bloody cheek.

I was not good enough to reign it in,
And I have learned to fear it, keep restrained
The fearsome suckers with their claws of sin --
And since that time, Apollo's always reigned.

The Python's dead, the kraken tamed, my muse
Controlled (cicadas speak to her). I feel
As deep as ocean trenches, but it's hues
Produced by spray of rhythmic waves which peal

Across the public beaches which you see
And hear -- and that is all you'll know of me.

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