Drowned Poet
by Adian Baker


At first the body retains all its features of life.
The hair, still growing, becomes the same shade as the water.

The stones in the pockets—
the words (no, just stones)—
weigh the body down.

When the clothes rot, the stones lose their grip
and decomposition begins:
        fish and various creatures—
water beetles + dragonfly larvae—
swim about & inside the body
break out like poems (no, just...)

breat outta the flesh
outta th cage f bones

(Frantic to be born.)