Page 18 - WDickinson_Blackwell_Submission

If the Mobula Ray is endangered, who endangers it?
Elegy for Philando Castile

ten thousand Mobula Rays tessellated over warm ocean
like ghosts in the water,
a single diamond body breaking the surface,
geyser-like, and I am reminded
of street fairs or highways,
any place you can be seen,
long slick bodies press together,
almost as if a coating;
a layer of paint.

recall a Wednesday when a usual
Terry stop becomes unusually
violent. but even then, it depends.
perhaps you stood out against
the ocean. perhaps your
black back breaching the surface,
was startling, threatening cast in the
red and blue of cruiser lights. but still
a body among many,
you are only bycatch.
it does not matter if you are in season,
because to some, you are always
in season.

this, too,
is usual.

dead Mobula, belly-side up.
I am reminded of the color scheme
they advise when painting a room.
you do not choose a dark shade:
this is claustrophobia.
this is a cell with no door.
this is deep ocean unlit
by refracted light.

at times, the Mobula is often called
the devilray, demonizing, overly simplistic,
not conforming to scientific nomenclature,
the name is suggestive, as common as the fear

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