Poem: Jawbone On The Beach

 

Jawbone On The Beach

 

it emanates brute,

askance atop a cracked whelk,

with thistle-mean molars that leer,

and the cuspid gleam of white scythes.

 

force stole it from a skeleton

as easily as wind snaps a branch off a tree,

now a bit of aimless barracuda

on wet-sand gray.

 

maybe a beachcomber  

will need a backscratcher,

or an artist might mistake it

for a fanged eighth moon--

 

or perhaps it will rise up again,

haggard as a raptor wing,

ecstatic in the palm of a dancer.

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