The Merlion, 230 feet high, Singapore

Someone has fashioned a hose
Deep inside my gullet. Tacked.
Was it you?
I cannot speak now, my jaws
clamped wide.
With eyes that never blink, I search
the horizon, the bay, the rolling waves.
Oh, was it you?

I curl my scales towards my gullet, grasping,
reaching, to untangle this knot.
This knot, that leaves me without breath.
Was it you?
I once slithered beneath the bay, the rolling waves,
half-lidded, winding and unwinding
this body, a cascade of scales and sun.
Oh, was it you?

I roar without breath now,
my fig’ur taut and weepy.
Stone spine, cement mane,
I never feel the water now,
but am cursed to watch it ‘ever.

Who left me here,
kidnapped in sleep?
(Was it you?)
To watch ‘ever,
To watch ‘ever,
The water, water, everywhere,
from a height no man can reach.