Arctic

Sedna (fallen woman) 

The sea-whore didn’t care a whit

About universal rules of grammar

 

Staring up from under the ice

Silver bodice, eyes bugged north

 

The old ones knew her, or of her.

The others called out for their mothers.

 

“…the size of Manhattan”

Goes the story, goes many.

 

90 percent lurking beneath the waves

Was this forecast in the hearings?

 

Was this prophesied in the stories?

We considered it all melted, now this.  

 

Crushing on a drill bit,

She blows. 

How much do I owe her?

For these nights of regret.

 

Where once was cold

Now lies only blame.

 

Twitch nervously into the blue sleep,

My Girlfriend Experience.

 

For it might be our last.

 

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