Judson Evans
Stranded
Mass stranding of red-tide squid the kids bag them for bait.
The scatter art of razor clams severed crustacean
appendages. Flattened globes well out of blow holes
in wet sand. Ropy tributaries leech ochres blowing out snot
in condoms of cytoplasm. The neurotoxin twitch
of sandworms living screws in the rusty muck flats. Our own eyes
simmer on unearthed surfaces corrosive and collapsing.
Even the dog from puppyhood terrified of the sly movements of liquids
follows us out too far on momentary sand bars up to his chest in shifting
islands and shoals. When I call to you far across the kelp and eaten eye
of the sea bass and sprint to lure the dog from rolling in the mess
of scales and cartilage the whole sky goes bilious Portuguese
man-of- war purple spotted with carmines and crime stories
of scattered carbon back to where you are looking too.
Everything looks back.
all cracked open a thousand tiny shells in our footprints
About the Author
Judson Evans is a full-time Professor of Liberal Arts at Berklee College of Music, where he teaches Poetry Workshops focusing on haiku, haibun, and renku, and a Visual Studies course on Paleolithic Cave Art. His collaborative book of lyric poems responding to cave painting, Chalk Song, will be published by Lilly Press, Boston, in fall 2021.
This piece kicks like the love child of Pattiann Rogers and Bashō. Damn. Such powerful work, Judson!
Be well,
J