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Tim Lucas

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Think Of The Things You Could Drop In Black Ink

Think of the things you could drop in black ink.

You could dilute or pollute it
With dollops of cream
Wallops of dream
Liquid verdegris
Welling, swelling
A rainbowing swirl right there in your sink.

You could use an eyedropper
Or drop in your own eye
Plop it in, aye,
Just like a glass marble
Plummeting star full
Lost in the night of it
In the blessed blind sight of it
Wallowing, swallowing
Orbing, absorbing
As much constellation as the eye can drink.

You might even drown a circus clown
Make him peer over the edge, then boot him right down.
See him thrashing about
Ink up his red snout
It can't take his full measure
And he flails without pleasure
Splashing, crashing
His polka dots thrashing
Just a thimble of ink with clown feet sticking out.

Or overturn a bottle of the same black ink.
You won't see the difference
The collision won't show
Just collusion and deference
A welcoming wallow
A self-sucking swallow
Of one into one:
The assimilation of long-parted brethren.

 

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