Wednesday, August 31, 2016

Danny Gentile #29 - Abalone


Sucking into your mother-of-pearl, your outer shell
remains a furry husk, giving no hint of the dichotomies
that occur between your body & its seat. When you

have gone, the opalescent rainbow that once held you
will offer up a pierced & concave shape as an ornament,
or provide the focus for a variance of light, reaching

down to its resting place. In contrast, the movements
that surround it seem like a whirlwind, with the shell
as its eye, ambivalent & stationary. In this way it sits

as an appropriate memorial to your sedentary life.
You were never regarded as something both still
& contemplative, but perhaps that is simply an error

of our dry assessment. But your residence, no longer
goes unnoticed, as it promises to retain an aspect
of your silent rumination, in the unexpected aquarium

of a living room. It will hold many things through this
second lifetime. And the memory of asymmetry will be
quantified, as it cups the ephemera of that other ocean.

From Nine Poems on Aquatic Life

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