Preparing To Spawn Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Four mermaids with hair the colour of sunset's flame
Powered by the need to spawn
Slim-waisted above their scales of emerald green
With teeth like mother of pearl
With ears as small and shapely as soft white mice
With darting tongues as pink as sea anemones
Sail to the lighthouse, there to careen
The lighthouse keepers into coupling

Half fish, half mortal their wombs
Like conch shells swilling the milk of humankind
With the salt of the shifting sea

Their breasts like the foamy white of a seagull's rest
Their breath like popping bubbles of champagne

They will tryst the men from the top of the lighthouse tower
Into the clash of the waves, with sensual movements

They will bring them ancient ecstasies.
Enchantments pour from the back of their silver throats

When the lighthouse men return to their stodgy brides
They will not speak of their offshore infidelity
But will turn in their beds with skin that burns for the tide.