Relic Ocean
by Ronald Linder

swirls the scavenged beach a thousand feet
     below the road, becalmed by the

ice-crystals Martini in that bar in Jenner
                      at the instep of the mountain

wilder than dreams of food or sleep,
     frost-fire ocean won’t drown rim-ants now,
     but the fin-filled waves will
     eat everything eventually,

waters coerced to bed will wake at the end
     when earth explodes or freezes,
     fringes to battered quartz …

This convex plate of soup,
     moiling, crackled bowl of mother’s blood
                           terrifying with its love,
     wet souvenir of who we are.