Splintered Viking Boat Song

by

this is not

about Ragnar, or shot

in blue celluloid (max hyperised gore)

 

woad doesn’t come into it

or Yorkshire graveyards / horizontal corpses

 

an invocation sung in Kernewek

for fishermen, misses

its point (Poseidon’s prong drips blood /

widows weep salt in paintings)

 

it’s not

the dirge of left-hand piano drills

(Volga’s men rolling over

calloused palms, roll over)

 

this is

driven song / bitumen river

solitary immigrant HOG

lantern skew / gust slap / siren eucalypt

 

keening for 382 fissured kilometres

1800cc / vertical

 

unriven

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