The Seas Ring I never thought about it, but hear it now; the omniworld of clicks and surges, barks and pops of blaring fishes as they sing. And are those sirens chuckling down below? I need to know, following chirps and squeaks through murky depths of night. Gliding past cliffs into the deeper sea, faint veils and wisps of bubble thread expire on lichened rocks. A pressure bulb blossoms in jellied water, expels a spray of sounds from hidden depths. Is there no place that doesn’t blast a note? The dense formless everything, choired in light, crashes musically in frothy waves ashore. It’s everywhere, the ocean’s full of song.
Tom Bauer is an old coot who did a bunch of university and stuff. He
lives in Montreal and plays board games.