The sound had shifted and
grown arms, long probing tentacles
feeling their fleshy way out
of the night and
Jacob's nightmares into
the common light of day
where the family
went about their
daily tasks
a calm sea
at dawn
He had never felt it before,
not consciously
but now, with the compass needle of
Emiel's long, dark shadow
and the ocean scent
lingering in his nose
Jacob felt his senses sharpen
quivering and billowing like sails
in the wind
but holding steadily, steadily to
true north
and true north led him
d
o
w
n
Jacob grew to distrust the ground
he trod on
played on
sat on
catching himself expecting it to tilt and jerk
this way or that, like in his dream
and throw him of balance
casting him overboard
into the deep
under the
normal sounds of the day
Jacob could hear the screech and howl of the Leviathan
under the rhythmic scouring of the
the scullery maid's brush on the stone steps
under the foaming of thread as Mother pulled
it through thick fabric
under the hollow stomping of the horses' hooves and
under Henrik's laughing and
the slapping sound of his
brothers as they teased and
tussled with each other
the arms of the monster, sleek and spotted brown
looped and poked at the delicate fibre of
the family
raising the pitch, the vibration
magnifying and contorting
sadness into depression
happiness into hysteria
and annoyance
into rage
it was a milk jug, a plain milk jug with
blue flowers painted on
that the housemaid
in her haste
knocked from the dinner table
as she
hurried to bring in more dishes
and when it shattered on the floor
Father leapt up
and slapped her
so roundly
that she
flew
collapsing on the
floor
her dress soaked with milk and
blood
painting her chin crimson
Father
grabbed her
by the hair
and
dragged her
from the room
HE WOULD NOT HAVE HIS PROPERTY STOLEN
HE WOULD NOT BE PLOTTED AGAINST BY LESSERS
HE WOULD DESTROY THOSE WHO WOULD SEE HIM
DE- DE- STROYED
Mother
Willem
Hendrik
and Jacob
sat rigid, barely breathing
as the screaming of the housemaid
and Father's bellowing
retreated
through the house
echoing from
the kitchen and
the stables beyond
the Leviathan had shown itself
a flash
close to the surface of the sea
where Jacob could just make out its
sleek, horrible skin
under the rushing
waves
YOU ARE READING
The Sleek Skin of the Leviathan
PoetryHolland, 1730. A young boy haunted by nightmares is captivated by the drawing of a Leviathan on his uncle's sea chest. But when the Leviathan begins to invade the boy's dreams, is he seeing reality, or only his own imagination? A verse novella (a sh...
