top of page

Poetry: Calypso's Five Decade Soak


Soap suds storm porcelain edges

of the Gulf of Mexico,

making landfall at record speeds.

We leave the water on, think

she’ll turn it off herself.


Freckled & bruised, a soft island –

Calypso’s breast emergent in the wide bath.

Reef-ribbed, polyp-pored, kelp-curled,

skin flakes off in salts and sands.

How long can she hold her breath?


When our tub overflows

her sand-bar knees submerge.

Next the fortified elbows,

her lighthouse nose,

colorful Keys adorning her toes.


Plastic baubles swirl

& organs bleach,

skin peels off in scutes,

her hard-bright room sings

like a wine glass as the waters rise.


An inch a year, soon a foot,

a meter, three. Our Calypso

lulled by heat, drowns.

Her heart? Brined in its own salts.

Still we do not stop the faucet.

2 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All
bottom of page