Daring inhabitant of a confined space

bounded by what can bruise, slice


or even kill the organ — a bilobate, blind, mouthless moray

lurking in a shark’s maw, subsisting


on scraps gleaned from fangs

— darting between our incisors, canines, molars


with arrogant assurance.  Or, because the tongue

is affixed to the floor of this slaughterhouse,


a blood-red sea anemone

without an oral fissure


waving among sharp rocks: a bifid flag of flesh

lurching and returning between white metal shards


mostly unscathed: snaps, whistles,

drone of the vibrating fabric


syllables of speech

and song