Alfred Kreymborg, ed. Others for 1919. 1920.
Marianne Moore
The Fish
through black jade.
Of the crow blue mussel shells, one
keeps
adjusting the ash heaps;
opening and shutting itself like
injured fan.
The barnacles which encrust the
side
of the wave, cannot hide
there; for the submerged shafts of the
split like spun
glass, move themselves with spotlight swift-
ness
into the crevices—
in and out, illuminating
turquoise sea
of bodies. The water drives a
wedge
of iron into the edge
of the cliff, whereupon the stars
rice grains, ink
bespattered jelly-fish, crabs like
green
lilies and submarine
toadstools, slide each on the other.
external
marks of abuse are present on
this
defiant edifice—
all the physical features of
cident—lack
of cornice, dynamite grooves, burns
and
hatchet strokes, these things stand
out on it; the chasm side is
Repeated
evidence has proved that it can
live
on what can not revive
its youth. The sea grows old in it.