Scythia Undone

If notions of oceans acidify our eggs,

either poaching undone or reprimandingly,

we will cast out the fish that swam with legs

in a standing too soon, correspondingly


do we dive into deeps: may I be guiltiest of all

in those parchments’ relief in a burning cerebrum.

Yet do we preach, and yet still do we scorn

the relief of the era, the beheading in turn


of a fish gone to sleep,

a beast overrun;

a man comes to right,

the Scythian made undone.

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