The Atoll

Plasma (cont.)
I sparkled sun to my back blinding them
Eclipsing more with my great little less
They ducked and dived afore the warrior saint
Invisible to their mentality
They stumbled tumbled jogged and baby crawled
Relentlessly pursuing their sad blue print
Down atoll ruts so rollercoasterlike
I stopped them frozen still with tentacles
Of thick subsonic rhythms so gagged speech
I barked tight boundaries of leopard seals
Too cumbersome to even post a piss
I squealed brief histories of killer whales
In cetacean folk songs which cuss giant squid
Hector
You look transported through their misery