FOR ROGER
by Jayne Marek
The ferry, underway, plunges, a hard heavy light-box against void
Somewhere in the night Strait flow strings of photospheres,
plankton and families of sea creatures that flash to each other
A man I passed on the ferry stairs seemed familiar, as tall as you
who have been gone for five years, or six, I forget
since once the dark sea receives a man, all days cease to be counted,
for him, all colors submerge,
he cannot acknowledge a nod or the static announcing embarkation,
the grind of seismic motors will not rouse him
as the lights of the shore let go finger by finger: blurs of red and yellow
like your Hawaiian shirts, splashes of exuberant rainbow fantasies
I’m going to get better
You knew you were dying from drink
you apologized to your son
trying doesn’t necessarily work
So low a tide here we hang offshore for many minutes, not arriving,
unseen water moves like years while we are still
There are so few of us aboard
I almost believe we don’t exist
Gyroscope Review - page 4!