Letting the days go by, letting the water hold me down

Published in Interrupture

Since quite clearly the world is now engaged
Upon a final war between creatures

And robots, it occurred to me to take
A walk along the scotched bluff above

Rocky Bay, descending Indian Trail
To the mushroom-shaped volcanic plug

Where I would sit, wash my feet, and see
If I could catch a spring squid, before

The short-fins migrated south, following
The lobsters under refracted starlight.

I asked my house: House, how do I snag
A squid? And, once snug, how do I cook it?

A song sparrow stuttered and the screen door
Sang in the lightning-bit wind. Just that.

I had never been sure whose side
The house was on. That was my answer.