The Sirens’ Songbook

Read time: 1 min.

Inspired by the writings of Marilyn Monroe.

Tattered nets on crumpled ships.
What do sirens want to sing?
Our cobbled songbook, speared.
What do sirens want to sing?
A songbook stitched from bottled notes.
What do sirens want to sing?
Bottles smashed by Ocean’s depth.
What do sirens try to sing?
Their glitters scratch our fins.
What do sirens try to sing?
We could clean and calm the Seas.
That’s what sirens try to sing.
Fishermen grin with piranha teeth.
That’s what sirens have to sing.
With wax-stuffed ears, they glut their eyes.
That’s what sirens have to sing.
The fish those men can’t catch, another won’t.
That’s what sirens have to sing.

Boat race demolition derby. Too late to swim away. The shanty ends with wine-stained foam. Between the rocks and ramming boats, dusty chalk becomes of rainbow scales. Crawfish salvage painted pearls while sailors stagger off with laughs. The pubs will flow with fishy tales tonight.

Splintered pages, shredded boards float out and sink. Another siren finds the fragments. She knows the skull she holds, and sings to calm internal seas.

She sings to stir the krakens, too; someone’s got to melt that wax.