Next, “Question to Physicists“

by Ted Dodson

Far abounding and reaching wide,
the mouth of the ocean is hungry,
and — deep inside — you are a desert
of gastric grains.

                                   Don’t you long
to tear sand bars from your guts
to stagger the sea’s gums with dunish teeth

or are you oysters opened like tunics,
urging the great slurp,
the napkin dabbing, the solitary lapping,
the waves against your chest?