“If you raise canary birds,” my grandfather said to me,
“feed them birdseed.” Indeed, it is certain disaster
to not give them water as well, I figured out for myself.
And sonic booms will give them a headache, they have no taste

for coffee. “No, Zosine,” I moaned softly, “no, Zosine.”
Long after his death, one man arose to defend his memory.
Unfortunately, that man’s character and writings made him
certain to do more harm than good. Brittle stars,

sea lilies. I sit here at the window and gaze back at the waiters
on the kitchen porch of the Chinese restaurant, getting cool
after a hot spell. They don’t know how to interpret what
   they see,
dinosaurs two feet long, worms thirty feet long, a one-ton

jellyfish. “Must they not have terrible, cold hearts,”
Zosine again whispered, “to figure out everything like that?
And to go one, day by day, carrying out their scheme.”
I longed for the gift to shake loose rain, but only briefly.

Variations, pigments: next door the painted lady and the red
admiral, the spangled fritillary, cannonsmoke and sewing
   machine.
My grandfather also said, “The brightness of the colors is said
to depend upon the emotions of the insect. What a beautiful way

to express one’s feelings, to be able to glow like melted gold
when one is happy.” He obviously did not want to take
his own business seriously, but all the same his voice had
   changed.
The Lion hath not prevailed. To open the book, and to loose,

the seven seals thereof (to judge every one according to his
   state):
the wings of the male are velvety black and those of the female
are smoky in color, with a distinct white stigmata spot on the tip
of each wing. Common as Tasmanian grasshoppers. Common

task, water. Dreadful fantasies chattered, laughed. Metallic
black, the storm was on the right path. The race of Edwin—
a long, mild, intense glance. Moss animals, labor, hinged
shells. Lake monsters, nobody really knows what to do 
   with them.

There is no other name, backboneless. Adults that emerge
during wet weather are frequently darker in color than adults
that emerge during dry weather. Aquatic labor, ribbon-shaped,
coiled.”Nay, Zosine, be quiet,” I whispered, “you have been
   dreaming.”

“If you are right,” said Zosine, “if you are right, if all this
is possible, what are we to do then?”