LAURA BYLENOK

 

                                     



LULLABY


Undocked, rocking, high on undertow
—wake like echo, like crocodile
wags his tail—like scales his skin,
like braille his skin—he ate our rudder,
brother, sister, take his reins
and slit night’s throat
before he shivs the moonlit boat
—tell me a story, crocodile—
let me ride your—let me put my
fingers in your eyes, your—
duérmete, niño, duérmete ya, sister, brother,
te comerá—when water splits itself
to touch his body is a continent
—I counted all the stars,
I threw them in a bucket
and tossed them out like bait—
now watch the moonlight schism
on the wake—like wriggle like life
his pale is trailing us, now watch
his body shimmies like a knife and sings:
O sleep, little children, sleep your fill,
I’ll eat you up, I’ll eat until
I’ll eat your toes, I’ll eat your legs
I’ll eat my fill, I’ll slurp your cup
I’ll eat your bones, I’ll eat until until until—
beg for me not to, beg for me please
good little children, wish me dead—
chop my feet and chop my blood
till schism schism in the land, am I
a wound? I am a finger on your hand
—let your fingers drag the wake,
rudder your fingers, let me bite,
or slit my belly and slit my tongue,
I’ll shiv your boat before too long—

 

                                                                                                      

 

      

 

                                   

 

 


TYPO 23