switching the dolphin.

dada
is rising early to reap
another sunrise, to rebuild
beneath a low ceiling a fresh head of steam
to repaint thickly the thin morning air and
to switch the dolphin from standard
to economy.

But did you also know that although dolphins
do fondle sandpits, covertly pull fish
and impishly clamp sailors in huge drips,
no dolphin, at least
not any dolphin that I know, and I do know
one or two, has ever agreed to take The Priest Test.
Apparently, they would rather campaign for the banning
of all types of aggressive campanology, harvest wire,
or spend their long and sunny afternoons
looking through their itchy microscopes
at the oceans shiny dust,

which they then, and for no apparent reason,
slightly smudge into kinks, into discrete
winks and nudges
for all of the naked and shipwrecked fundamentalist
female judges.