Aria All of a sudden a soprano’s song wafts from my neighbor’s veranda over the mournful yelps of seagulls who swarm the cove for fish guts pitched from lobster boats. Tossing back their beaks they gulp the entrails of mackerel. A gigantic stone coated in brine and seaweed rises like a woolly mammoth with the tide’s retreat. I imagine it’s been there since the continents divided or since our eye muscles perfected their own evolution. I sat dead center recording the professor who paced the stage like a caveman in a lab coat, his eyes seemed locked on me – the English major who never took a note. For 500 million years the revolution of our eyes has not changed. With equal conviction he confessed – It’s why I believe in God – which is when a theatre of pre-med students all glanced up and blinked.
Bill Garvey‘s poetry has been published in Nixes Mate Review, New Verse News, Margie, The Worcester Review, 5AM, Slant, Diner, Concho River Review, New York Quarterly, Cloud Lake Literary, and Rattle in Spring, 2023.