So I set out on the sea
with a little food for me
and a sharp harpoon for the whale that I’m hunting.
The fine women on the shore
called out “Give us more”
but I had nothing to give, as if I did before.
Before my house burned down last night
and I killed my friends in a fight.
So, like I said, I paddled out in mourning light
to see if I could see
the shape come from the deep
or if I could hear its song of love at night taunt me
and though I know I’m getting some
my fingers are getting numb.
I sit and toss and the cold waves wash over me
and I’ve been out here for 60 days.
There’s no sign of spout or spray
and the cold dark night falls down on the flat black sea.
In the calm I close my eyes.
I lean back and rock from side to side.
I am placid. I have slowly gone starry skies
with half closed eyes.
But with a thump thump beneath my boat
watch the water rise
and storms rage!
and my skiff crumbles!
and the whale beneath assails and humbles
and says “Knock knock from beneath.
You know it’s me. I’m your heart.
I’m a whale on the bottom of the deep black sea.
My mouth is wide and toothy.”