Nonny sits near the window
The first rogue wave
Shatters, ruining yesterday’s
Mail. “That’s nothing,”
She says, pointing to the horizon’s
Black swell. Seconds later
I’m fetal on a bathmat, the house
Shaking inside a sound
Like a giant synth shitting
Metal Machine. An octopus
Erupts from the toilet.
“Not my home,” she says,
“Ocean up and fucks us
Dandy shell emergencies
Love my body though
I’m through with Galene whom
I never betrayed.” Kelp
Trails gulls through a dead
Whale’s ribs. Nonny paints
The kitchen melodramatic
Red. The octopus is a hologram
Traveling out the window
Through which I follow
If only for the sake of Nonny
And our desire to know
Each other and desert
Each other for new
Centers of meaning so that
The boundaries may reign
And in doing so be undone.