CHARLES KELL

Queequeg Mask

In the shed I mix creosote & cumin.
Spread its thick paste across my forehead.

Light three sticks of jasmine incense
& inhale cords of smoke

as the tympanum rattles my skull.
I carve this coffin from oak.

Each night outside of time I stack
the letters on thin strips of glass.

I lie inside its contours—icon—still
waiting for the wind.

Listen to the harpoon’s rattle begin.
If a man made up his mind to live,

mere sickness could not kill him.
Make a life-buoy of the coffin, and no more.