Issue Four

Summer 2012


An Explanation

Kipling’s big joke, or Aesop’s lost fable:
the story of how man got the feeling,

deep down in his heart or gut, of falling.
As I have it he was sloshed on whiskey

and hoping for a pull at the sky’s flask,
snatching at the odd coins in the sea’s purse,

thinking them moon or cloud: a fish-cirrus,
a dripping wad of tangled lunar rock.

Or somesuch.  Thing is, it was such a shock
when he noticed the mermaid-girl weeping

that, all but sunk, he confused the open
water with close grey beach, plunged at what else

but a rabid breach, this drenched drag-Alice,
senseless, wrong-sized, far from ineffable.



Adam Crothers



bird of paradise flower