Plague Of Dead Sharks

A poem by Alan Dugan

Who knows whether the sea heals or corrodes?

The wading, wintered pack-beasts of the feet

slough off, in spring, the dead rind of the shoes’

leather detention, the big toe’s yellow horn

shines with a natural polish, and the whole

person seems to profit. The opposite appears

when dead sharks wash up along the beach

for no known reason. What is more built

for winning than the swept-back teeth,

water-finished fins, and pure bad eyes

these old, efficient forms of appetite

are dressed in? Yet it looks as if the sea

digested what it wished of them with viral ease

and threw up what was left to stink and dry.

If this shows how the sea approaches life

in its propensity to feed as animal entire,

then sharks are comforts, feet are terrified,

but they vacation in the mystery and why not?

Who knows whether the sea heals or corrodes?:

what the sun burns up of it, the moon puts back.

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Poems in English 

• Sonnet 71: No longer mourn for me when I am dead by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 70: That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 6: Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 69: Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 68: Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 67: Ah, wherefore with infection should he live by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 66: Tired with all these, for restful death I cry by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 65: Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 64: When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defaced by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 63: Against my love shall be, as I am now by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 62: Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 61: Is it thy will thy image should keep open by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 60: Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 5: Those hours, that with gentle work did frame by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 59: If there be nothing new, but that which is by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 58: That god forbid, that made me first your slave by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 57: Being your slave, what should I do but tend by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 56: Sweet love, renew thy force, be it not said by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 55: Not marble, nor the gilded monuments by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 95: How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare

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