The streets in front of my house are underwater
Approximating deepest winters’ depth;
What feels like a cruelly cold expanse
Below sea level pressures
Entropy slows still, among other things
And in the darkness,
Strange creatures move in
I know you’re not interested in me
But I wonder
Were we face to face,
What might you tell me?
What have you seen?
Your evolution’s intention speaks poignantly
Primordial oils power your nervous system,
Crustaceans born immortal to lumber with
luminous, stalked, bio-mechanical eyes,
Urban filter-feeders fully foreordained
I’m only a small fish,
But as we pass each other in the night
In your enduring preoccupation,
My structures sing out to you.
BRONZE FROG 