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"Things to Do in the Belly of the Whale" a poem by Dan Albergotti

Kathy Shimpock

Measure the walls. Count the ribs. Notch the long days.


Look up for blue sky through the spout. Make small fires


with the broken hulls of fishing boats. Practice smoke signals.


Call old friends, and listen for echoes of distant voices.


Organize your calendar. Dream of the beach. Look each way


for the dim glow of light. Work on your reports. Review


each of your life’s ten million choices. Endure moments


of self-loathing. Find the evidence of those before you.


Destroy it. Try to be very quiet, and listen for the sound


of gears and moving water. Listen for the sound of your heart.


Be thankful that you are here, swallowed with all hope,


where you can rest and wait. Be nostalgic. Think of all


the things you did and could have done. Remember


treading water in the center of the still night sea, your toes


pointing again and again down, down into the black depths.

 
 
 

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