well,
you could let me drift.
oh, please
let me drift
among the jellies and eels
of the unknown deeps.
i might grow gills
i might grow fins and start
my own chain of bioluminescence,
frail whites, soft reds
and all of that.
floating and breathing
among the oceanic snow
those dead bodies
floating to rest
in ground weve never seen.
you could let me drift,
like buoys
pointing nowhere out
to discerning eyes.
or like a body
cast off in the night,
to float, eventual collapse,
and then,
the slow fuzzy snow
of the ocean
on down down down
into the muck.
you could let me drift, drift.
J. Endress, USA
The Social Poet 