Slippery Slope

–C.M. Clark

They fall oblique. The head’s pin tufts bobbing. They

fall rough. Could be buffalo scruff, this

duck baby down. They are alien meat. Perpendicular

the wing joints conniving in emerald or aqua, splaying

a murky diet of mindless plankton,

algae sunbathing upstream. This

is where water takes shape, the creaturely mass

setting up housekeeping, canal flow

engineered to massage something

ungovernable. Living perched

on oolitic limestone, we wait

the sea’s slouch upland. This

is where we risk joining fluid

and feather. Flesh and fur. Taking our chances.

2014 WLRN-Miami Herald News & O, Miami Festival Poetry Contest Winner: Best South Dade Poem