C. John Holcombe
Shark's Teeth
Not bone but harder and more mineral-like,
constructed of chitin, and glaucous right
down to the shade of the grooved enamel
that conjures up pressure in the sunless depths.Such then the rosaries of the mountainous sharks,
with bodies like liners, enormous, that slid away
till all that remained were the gleaming jaws
sharp as the dorsals through the truculent seas.Of the energy webbed out in hard thong and muscle,
once rotted, the cartilage has left no trace --
which is apt, on reflection, as at these depths
a shark is a gasp, a blood clot, a shear and gone.Often abundant, even in countless thousands,
are the teeth that pierced like thorny needles,
or punched their way up, round grinding plates:
fearful, indeed fatal, are the various shapes.Whatever their names, groupings, supposed descents,
and closely indentured, they end in nothing.
Like a blind shoot thrust up from our shadowed past
we trace out their edges, but let them drop.
Bio:
C. John Holcombe worked in exploration, mining and international finance before moving into freelance numismatics and publishing. His poems have appeared in many small presses in the USA and UK, and he is currently editor of poetry-portal.com, a guide to Internet poetry.
