[new version]
A sea creature of lore owned
a gigantic, snub-nosed head
from which a body tapered
shyly. Digital blacksmiths hammer
out our steel replicas.
Lever and fulcrum and
paired toothless blades:
the spare architecture
of a specialized tool.
Owing to his mania,
the reclusive billionaire
eschewed clippers and let
his fingernails accrue
like stalactites. They clicked
like scurrying roaches
when he played cards.
Crows and monkeys groom
each other, picking bugs
from feathers and fur. A calm
comes over them as they pick
and peck. Thinking of them,
I clip a thumbnail--hiding,
like them, from hunger and
fear for a moment, attending
quietly to a bodily chore,
pressing a lever like Archimedes,
watching slivers of keratin
fall away like dreams.
thing poem
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