Poetry: Coelacanth by Chris Tracy

Chris Tracy (5’8″, brown/brown) is a proud Virginian who is enjoying his third semester as a Draper student when not entering data at MTV or shucking oysters in the East Village. He enjoys hanging out in pubs, listening to crust punk, taking long walks at night, snowy winters, and supporting Liverpool FC and the Boston Celtics. Chris previously published a poem titled “Jesus Wept” in the Fall 2011 issue of Anamesa. His piece is from Anamesa Spring 2012.


Chris Tracy

No gods, no masters, not even
the dusking moon and her turning
tide-time –
to swim a day as coelacanth,
scale-mail untouched by change
in brine.

To pass through the scorching dredge
of great eyes that sear celestial
deeps –
to be found unchanged and whole,
nothing but heart – a Parthian ride,
no real retreat.

No impossible goal, no dinosaur act,
a simple fish that got it right; Lazarus
taxon, arise and swim –
Is it the hollow spine, the uncouth taste,
or the fat of brain that wore the
paradigms thin?

If I – dead eyes and silver stars,
wolf-paddling against the charging
depth of mind –
could swim a day as coelacanth,
I might learn at last to understand
how common creatures try.


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