April 13, 2016/May 1, 2016 The speech of whales like intentional metaphors for otherness A flash of orange intense as the flavor of groves in the sunlight I have known groves Grove Street all the way from the dentist’s office down to the Oranges Like the flash of a sari or a necklace of velvet soft marigolds offered up by a sweet-voiced girl with chestnut eyes amidst the eternal ruins of Kajuraho and now she’s a dentist beloved of children who’ve all gone home while she turns the glossy pages of National Geographic in the high stone tower of my dream this night wind-whipped ravens cawing across the living quilt in the wind, yet not of it erected stone by heavy stone by men of the earth sturdy dwarves of the bowels whose brothers fashion tools and jewels in the dripping, dank dark while I sit, wind whipping through remembered hair, dreaming of echoing cries
Martin Ahrens 