As I showed my class this documentary about the dissection of a white shark that suffocated in the safety net around a South African beach, I started to write this little poem:
The stout researcher measures herself against the immense liver.
She holds the grape-like lens of the shark’s dark eye in her palm.
Freeing the grinning triangle head,
her fingers ski down the pale y-shaped brain
hind, mid and forebrain
over the white scent bulbs
“The gills,” she says, “are like the leaves of a book.”
Meat pages, salt pages, a story in which
blood and water rush
endlessly against each other
(to be continued…..)