An Eel

I

The strange part is his head. Her head. The strangely ripened

Domes over the brain, swollen nacelles

For some large containment. Lobed glands

Of some large awareness. Eerie the eel’s head.

This full, plum-sleeked fruit of evolution.

Beneath it, her snout’s a squashed slipper-face,

The mouth grin-long and perfunctory,

Undershot predatory. And the iris, dirty gold

Distilled only enough to be different

From the olive lode of her body,

The grained and woven blacks. And ringed larger

With a vaguer vision, an earlier eye

Behind her eye, paler, blinder,

Inward. Her buffalo hump

Begins the amazement of her progress.

Her mid-shoulder pectoral fin – concession

To fish-life – secretes itself

Flush with her concealing suit: under it

The skin’s a pale exposure of deepest eel

As her belly is, a dulled pearl.

Strangest, the thumb-print skin, the rubberised weave

Of her insulation. Her whole body

Damascened with identity. This is she

Suspends the Sargasso

In her inmost hope. Her life is a cell

Sealed from event, her patience

Global and furthered with love

By the bending stars as if she

Were earth’s sole initiate. Alone

In her millions, the moon’s pilgrim,

The nun of water.

II

Where does the river come from?

And the eel, the night-mind of water –

The river within the river and opposite –

The night-nerve of water?

Not from the earth’s remembering mire

Not from the air’s whim

Not from the brimming sun. Where from?

From the bottom of the nothing pool

Sargasso of God

Out of the empty spiral of stars

A glimmering person