Individual Voices / Natural Forms
Winter, 2006
Brendan Constantine
After a Painting of Four Dogs in a Submarine
There's no flag we can see, no telling
whose side they're on, but they don't appear
hostile. What navy worth the name
would go with periwinkle blue?
Then there's the crew, each member smiling
from his own window - yeah, it's one of those
four window jobs - tongues out, excited;
not exactly what we'd call Battle Stations.
So we must assume they're exploring,
gathering research for some project or other;
deep salvage perhaps, some ancient vessel
whose imagined cargo proves
a counter history for their kind, a long lost
supremacy at sea. Or they're tourists.
But what about us, down here too
with the red crabs and starfish?
We seem to be lower, looking up at them.
Was it a race, a competition between
species and we've won? Or are we going down,
have we called for help, is this who's come?