Still Hunting Moby Dick
Queequeg boatless;
Lost without Ahab.
He wades miles of mud
To where the whale may come:
To Shi Shi,
A beach sacred to the Makah
(A whaling people).

He stands poised in surf,
The fire-hardened tip of his RockWacker cocked,
Awaiting the whale.

Queequeg waits.

Queequeg waits, and wills the whale.

And waits.

Perhaps only in powerful imagination,
The called whale comes,
And Queequeg casts his magical harpoon.

Then he gives it away.

www.TheWordless.com  ¶ 7/22/2006 09:49:00 AM