A harpoon, slung.

A fully extended arm

wrenched, wrung.


A torn muscle ripped.


blood flood.


Blubber and bible thumper,

rubber, wood and rust.





Thought and deed

carry my future.

Religion maddened by nature.


I am his downfall.

I am him.

Blowhole cry

ignites the icy sky.


4 thoughts on “Ahab

  1. Hi Brian…I was stunned when I first read the tactile- ness in this (and I read it over many times and again this morning) The language is so spare, weighed letter by letter, compressed, almost like a manual or a documentary commentary. and the last stanza….

  2. I like you like, Jana. This had been slooshing around for six years, before I got the life belt out and rescued it yesterday. I dragged it in, wrung it out and dried it by the fire. It reminds me why I throw very little away, when the mind-space comes and fits everything has its time.

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