
Bridget Lowe
Sea World
I am counting down the days
on my abacus of bone. I write home
with my finest India ink.
At dawn the damaged will be laid
out in rows and warmed by a light
until their strength returns.
At least enough to wave. Little girl,
this one’s for you. Always has
been, always will be. I’m Babe Ruth
pointing toward a distant, sun-hued
orb. And just like that the shadows
return to their lair. And applause.
It moves me until I think that I might
speak. Then the tragic schema
of the common beach ball begins again.
​
Bridget Lowe is the author of the poetry collection At the Autopsy of Vaslav Nijinsky (Carnegie Mellon University Press, 2013) and her poems have been published in The New Yorker, A Public Space, Poetry, Best American Poetry, The New Republic, Ploughshares, and elsewhere. She lives in Kansas City.
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