Games, God, Fairies, Monsters, Science, Stories

They sprawl out in the afternoon
Like sleeping hunting dogs, collared

And tagged with their names, which they know,
But never use amongst themselves.

Seems easy for them, doesn’t it?
Harder for us, caught up in you.

Your aches and indigestions sway
As we swim in the Sargasso

Of your thoughts, fighting small currents
Or letting ourselves drift. Often,

We let ourselves drift for too long,
And some of us never return.

Some of us set anchor deeper,
Get a grip on some sunken ship,

Join the reefs of us you’ve cast off
In your back-and-forth behaviors.

Not that this wreck’s any safer.
It’ll keep disintegrating.

So will those sea dogs on the waves.
They only dream they’re hunting hounds,

Only dream they rest on dry land.
They’re floating away slowly, too,

Stories and sciences, monsters,
All the rest, in stone or in print,

Just glints on the waves, given names,
Reflections for collars and tags.