Series of poems exchanged between poets via e-mail
Imaginary Dolphins of Venice
The wishful thinking of dolphins swimming
in the canals of Venice
lousy panacea, beautiful hallucination
not to mention serendipitous swans, the
color of no more war. Social distancing is
six feet to a thousand miles depending on
the color of your eyes. This light breeze-
spiked chime sounds either resigned or
aloof, I can’t tell which, and the thrashers
emote as though nothing is as communicable
as music.
The space between myself and everyone else
advances with age and I’m aging by the speed of sound.
This morning there was chicken sausage sizzling
and scrambled eggs, scents filled the kitchen.
Empire is now sharing a cup of coffee with the
rest of humanity. I don’t even know their names!
Empire is her holding me like I was the last
hermitage on earth. Our berserk dogs need their
Sunday hike, bereft of parishioners and sometimes
I don’t think the desert will summer us out of this
any more than dolphins will carry our grey ashes
out to sea.
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- John Macker
