1295
splash animal
ekphrastic
Jackson Pollock’s #14
you’re dark as ink
where day won’t touch
under the monster sundial palette
in the drink
you come to this
death fronted
no teeth and yet
shape framed to prowl and growl
something threatened
a little nap
it looms
and bleeds the weave
a wraith writhe round
this some say soul
soaked in the stink
and having come this far
must sink
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