published in Volume 4, Issue 3 on December 31st, 1997
" There Leviathan Hugest of living creatures... And seems a moving land." -Milton, Paradise Lost
I almost believe I'm at the bottom of an unfamiliar ocean, surrounded by gray-black beasts, immense bodies rising and slicing through granite sky misremembered. I imagine they move that way every time I'm forced to look away so I can breathe. But they never move or never cease moving. I don't know their language, and they have no time to stop or stop standing still so I can't beg a moment.
I came here to capture the landscape, carry it home in shapely phrases, but instead I am the captive groping for eloquent expressions. And all I can hear is the whisper of a scream, as if sound were pressed back by water.