Whale Dreams by Adefisayo Adeyeye




i can hear whales singing
pop songs in the fog

we are lying drunk
inside the freckled laps of stars

i have traveled through time
to tell you this:

this is the ocean
and where it is now


swallowing seawater
and the sweet smoked smell of rice

i thought about parallelism
or maybe the fear of it

sometimes a bone heart slowly ungluing
from a meat one
sometimes smiling about being crushed
inside the warm jaws of something unavoidable

beneath this, a corpse-like cold
a purple belly stretched and swollen


an oil spill in the form of a mouth opening over me
teeth in the shape of teeth in the palm of my hand

anticipation, i have become a whale dream

a floating island of trash in the pacific
this is my body too

scrape your teeth against my whale skin
watch the soft white blubber puff
around the edges

i am a big numb body
unzipped inside of you

a wet wet sigh swallowing tiny fish

like little waterlogged
grenade pins


Adefisayo Adeyeye is a writer from Southern California. His work has been published in Shabby Doll House, Potluck Magazine, and he has work forthcoming in Boost House. You can find him over at papercranechronicles.tumblr.com.