[i. daughters of triton]

Little sister / seventh sister
Daddy named us well
// mollusk-soft daughters
for a great barrel-chested
bell /// We don’t chime in
unless someone points
a stick at us. //// Conductor
of daughters, of pearly white
belles ///// An empty shell is no
way to pander ////// to your
pitchfork Daddy’s rancor.
Sing to the audience so they
learn
to forgive our Daddy
/////// his anger.

[ii. part of your world]

Seventh sister wants to run
her tongue over all her stuff
until it’s dry as sandpaper
in the sun. Wants upward
mobility, hungers for a tan.
Daughters at the top don’t get
reprimanded, wear smart suits,
lean in, suck their man’s ten
wiggling toes of progress.
Want—uglier through
repetition
like the world. Let’s forgive her
cavern of treasures. Seventh
sister
is the American Dream’s
premium antiques collector.

[iii. under the sea]

it’s the renaissance
of self-loathing
a fishbowl’s the luckiest
tableware w/ the soft silt floor
that’s the daughterly spot
why make a muck
of all the clean bubbles
why covet breakfast bread
aren’t you lucky you’re allowed
that wet knife
extra pinched waist
oscar-worthy calypso tease
sister there are worst fates
no fish jokes please

[iv. poor unfortunate souls!]

seventh sister, have you
considered
a career in sea witchery or
drag?
have you considered more
literal
hunger more villainous curves ~
have you considered the
pleasures
of big women and scrawny
men?
have you considered, seventh
sister
the magnificent creative
powers
of repeating yourself over and
over ~
have you considered death,
seventh sister
or have you considered silence
in our glorious post-lyric age?
I haven’t, for seventh sister, I
own the ocean
it was born from my tit sweat