We seek a darkness in the deep, and equilibrium every which way under the sea.
But the shore is relentless, insistent, it hunts what is free, searching for finality in the water’s infinity. It turns us into prey—naked nightswimmers
scared of the silence in the black. Scared of symmetry and the beasts snaking through it. Scared of rippling heights, and scared of the night and its threat of release.
Inevitably, we sink in the shallows, try to forget lost coastlines, riding centerlines through the waves. Like surfers become water itself, we crouch, we crest, we crash.
David Zaza lives in New York where he runs a design studio specializing in arts publications. His poetry has been published in print and digital magazines since 1992, including The Quarterly, Medusa’s Laugh and The Perch among others. Recent multidisciplinary projects include The Goldberg Variations, an audio project which presents his recited poetry with piano accompaniment; Before and After, or At The Same Time, a series of one poem and three illustrative fine art drawings; and [unreliable], a poetry/drawing collaboration with visual artist Mark Fox. With Fox, he created two puppet plays: A Criminal’s Story, produced by Saw Theater, Cincinnati; and The Kiss, produced by Franklin Furnace, New York.