Chimera

Is it the octopus we choose

or king of castle up above;

do undercurrents well below,

or, built on sand, keep battlements?

I, sovereign over pennant towers,

but speculate Leviathan?

Do I seek divers to explore

unfathomed deeps, swirl sediments,

perchance to find some purchase there,

a grip on rising levels, fear?

Perhaps, report that all is clear;

more likely start with pistol shot,

a danger warning, lurking near,

the breakers rolling in to crash.

But do I ride, crest of the waves,

risk pull by suckers underneath,

devoured by behemoth of past?

Is this what surface tension means,

meniscus fragile on the sea;

chimaeras shimmy in the brine,

illusory spooks, rats, ghost sharks?

I spade-build dream, my bucket list,

amongst sure stranded grain and grit,

where razors, cowries, starfish lie,

a paper fig from Eden’s soil,

doves, jingles, limpets holding fast.

See scallops of a pilgrimage

and tellin, trivia of beach,

midst oyster beds, rock pools, fish fry,

and iridescent cultured pearls,

by spiney jewel box, angel wings.

It is skilled art to nib the Quink,

to craft the printer’s eroteme;

those question marks float free from block,

a stain from squid to cloud with ink?