inklingfair A few years ago, I picked out a shirt from an ukay-ukay in Cubao. Written all over it was a poem:
(front)
On the black beach of Osa
pebbles balance on shadows
their surface etched
with secret constellations and
storm torn tree trunks
blossom bone white roots
hermit crabs clinging
like berries
clinched into their twisted shells
seashells shaped like primate ears
seem placed along the shore with painterly
precision
(back)
between dunes and pliant sands until the tracks just end
and
seashells shaped like primate ears
seem placed along the shore with painterly
precision
glowing lobes of fleshy dusk
and dirty curls of cartilage
listen for Aporia
oh cleansing rise of tide and swell of shatter(ed)
surf
a promised silence drowned deep below Aporia
the pony prints
return beyond the grasp of full moon waves
the beast has
surfaced
with the stars and
wanders wild beneath
the trees
her tracks
hidden
by deadened leaves
***
I wonder who wrote it? I Googled some of the lines – “dirty curls of cartilage” – and nothing. I love the line “seashells shaped like primate ears”.
There’s Jinetes de Osa, which faces a black beach. The peninsula is “a wondrous, magical, and untouched place for nature-lovers and adventurers”. Was the poet a visitor? What does Aporia sound like? I imagine it sounds the way the world does when you’re underwater and the moon is new and you can hear your heart pounding and air bubbles swirling about your head.
Now I have my own Capri.
Photo by Vincent Ledvina on Unsplash
