I swim half the world by solitary elephant to stake claim 
The wild periphery of island triangles and scalene birds,

To fill in blank cartography with the drunken breath of powder kegs.
At the bleary sight of garden currency, hoarse islets burst each vein in isolation, 

And draw bad hands in due proportion to every red iota of the seasick.
I get ahead of sonar miracles, freefall open surgery but still the eyes

Of pre-war portraiture fall through cracks of epic haberdashery. 
Coptic nightgowns travel watercolor amidst the buoyant lingerie of pearl.