Shaoni C. White

The Vulture

​

The tide takes dermis and tendon, hand and eye. Salt, air, birdsong 

     14,109.75             124.00              0.89%

wash through me. I watch the clouds

     9,281.10               76.10                0.83%

and i am ending

in their anxious departure. A pigeon recites stock numbers

     29,161.80             213.07              0.74%

to ward away misfortune, incanting the Dow Jones and the NASDAQ.

     14,174.14               104.72              0.74%

     40,086                 277                   0.69%

I let him hop away with my earlobe in his beak.

     71.19                     0.28                 0.39%

A seagull sings the rising seas

     6,616.35               15.69                0.24%

and i am ending

and dreams the planet ocean-drowned.

I let him free my lungs, brine-coated

     458.32                  0.81                  0.18%

from between my barnacled ribs.

A vulture swallows my teeth.

     4,255.15                7.71                   0.18%

I say

     25,757.83              40.41                0.16%

(you know)

     52,551.53              76.66               0.15%

(most people
would stop to chat first)

     0.8871                  0.0005             0.06%

The vulture says
“What’s there to talk about? World’s ending.”

     0.7714                   0.0004            0.04%

​

(it’ll be ending for a while
what’s so urgent
you don’t have time
for please and thank you?)

​

     110.08                  0.00                 0.00%

The vulture says
“Things to do. No time. Soon enough

     3,589.75               -12.11                -0.058%

we’ll be too dead to have time for anything at all.
Don’t you have things to do?”

​

     3,153.14               -4.83                 -0.15%

(yes)

and i am ending

(i’m watching the sky)

     4,085.51               6.73                  -0.16% 

“Aren’t you scared?”

     34,393.75            -85.85               -0.25% 

(no)

     34,259                 -98                   -.0.29%

I let the vulture take my tongue.

and i am ending

And

     27.995                 -0.151                -0.54%

I am ending.
Waves make homes in my skull. 
The sun falls down

     1,867.70               -11.90               -0.63%

inch by inch, mile by mile.

     0.0000               0.000               0.00%

The tide is high.

Mother of Thousands

​

So there’s this plant
called a mother of thousands.
It flings itself outward
like a universe. 

Try This One Weird Trick
To Become Infinite!

Pluck a bee from a petal.
    Split it between your teeth.

    A childhood spent stealing sweetness
    from honeysuckle? Buddy, that’s amateur hour.

Become porous. Learn how to be stung.

Now this mother of thousands,
it’s a bit of a character—

A bee’s last spasm
(organic, locally sourced, handmade)
should be sweet enough to burn the throat.

Doctors HATE It!

I said to it, you know
you need water to stay alive, and it said
wow, you’re so cute! I have no regard for death
but I’m sure that’ll be useful
for something that does 🙂

Pair with pinot noir, or for those less eager
to forget their limbs 
in wine-dark dissolution,

  rainwater.

    I hear our every cell holds saltwater 
    like the sea. 

    The afternoon touches each stem
with a golden hand. 

          If you could take it in your palms
          do you think it would be cold?

    The bright hum of daytime
    pours itself down my optic nerve.

          Like snowmelt?

      My pupils flutter like a honeysuckle petal
      with an anxiety disorder.

          Do you think it would be warm?

The Answer Will Shock You!

      It stings.

That tip about water and life was soooo fake!
I ate the ocean whole
and my kidneys choked on the brine.
Figured out this great workaround, though!
Turns out

      mutual drowning
      is its own kind of marriage. Turns out

the ocean will unmake you
into more ocean

    if you wait long enough.