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.