Three poems from Mari Lavelle-Hill’s new chapbook, Cetacean as Several, published by Salò Press on 19 May 2020.
Click Communication
wild & cryptic
the harbour porpoise phocoena phocoena
exhibits a narrow social vocal repertoire,
sounding out the result of
my inner repetition
as click-train water emissions:
poorly suited mate choices
click
some mother-(larger) calf contact (played out w/ infrequent sound)
click
antisocial foraging, at habitat
click
fission-fusion levels of complex alliance
click
this species has evolved to avoid predators
click
sensitivity greater than > bellies of killer whales
click
functional tradeoffs elicit a flight response
click
a limited knowledge of patterns (captive)
……………………………. patterns in the pound net
click
the prey echoes and / or jerks
…………………………………………………………click
clickclickclickclick—
Autopsy
…………..net-loved skin
laid out upon the table
fish dinner
washed clean of sea & remains
only PCB remain
he scalpels blubber
………….man-made
across back-arched
slicing sausage meat
………….secateurs clip the ribs
lined up glockenspiel blocks
perfectly neat & deep
in the untouched womb
there growth should be
the camera sees [ ]
he inserts his whole hand
wearing the dilated cervix
………………………like a bangle
Rin
this belly slaps & punctures calm
who solved the moving puzzle of blue?
replaced w/ ends I push
to make the flat lines move
I know the boundary of life like
never before & outside each wet wall
the faces of pale moons w/ fingers
pulled out & propelling like how
this tail oscillates to one side
then the other then the other
like this head to wall
the wall giving a little on impact
but never enough & most unruly
of the fingering moon to stuff
a clear-sided teat past my teeth
& into the fishless gullet
but this tastes less like me
& more of omniscient
finger-pushing moon / my baby
do you remember the old moon?
sharper ends of puzzle pieces blue
picked out of waves & lit
in fishiest silver / the gentle bump
of your head as we dived in & out
w/ you clasped on my back
we rode to that line / between the blues
& never arrived
~
I know the boundary of life like
lines / always arriving
I run my back along the plastic (unmoved)
& remember less & less of –– /
