Alligators Are Out There Eating Sharks, No Big Deal
It was tougher to drain the swamp than we thought,
home field advantage and all. The ocean got all up
in rivers. The insults were popping and brown water
hopping with laced cocktails and mouths locking up
in wired hotel rooms. When the bears started eating
their young, when the winged insects droned on
and dove into extinction, when the bill came due,
the boats grew full, and the magistrates mourned
concrete pillars disappearing into muck, a battle
brewed above and below. There is what we believe
about these days and what we know. The sharks
responded with brute force, blood in the water
reflecting sky dripping fire. The plot was lost,
applause indistinguishable from thunderclaps
or bombs. Jaws open, independent of the cause.
Martin Ott, a longtime resident of Los Angeles, has published eight books of poetry and fiction, most recently Lessons in Camouflage, C&R Press, 2018. His first two poetry collections won the De Novo and Sandeen Prizes. His work has appeared in more than two hundred magazines and fifteen anthologies.