Derek White

allele[7]

kum-

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a_hive_ofLmorphology.Quantum_tunneling_under-
phillicGUTleg_garment_Rdisxtrict-U turn,thru-

the_infra_structure,my_backhoe_kum-quat

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cult+{UAGAT}retro-virus.coFactors_etch_enzymes.Uridine[]U

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Wantonese-stained-floweressence.Maj-enta_tcannonbal_coll

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cave}Reverse_eEngineering_survey.IsolatedG

waxing_bee_pairs_dancethedance_to_induce_hydro+_phobias

a_dull_sheen_alpha-helical_in_darkness,beneath_ _kum-Quat_har

boring_escavating_by_bootstraps_to_suspend.

pummeling,my_fingers_dig,a_spoonful_of_roe

cellsCrumble_to_cement

d_Diseased_map,reConstructing-while_the_perpetual_occupation

Black Ice Sur

©	if	the	sun	would	ever	set	, we	would
eye-	witness	the	northern		lights.	As	it	is
the	pale	orb	wanders	in	suspenders		, diffused
and	scattered		(C)	in	a land	so	swollen	with
lakes ,	the	only	land is	Islands	-patchy	tundra	that	weaves
the	ice	flats	and	snowdrifts		together		, a
sodden	sponge	C-saturated		then	super	-cooled	©	the
diamonds		sleep	in lake	beds	biding	beneath	the	ice
encapsulated		in	Kimberlite		pipes	-volcanic		orgasms
from	the	mantle	that	never	quite	puncture		the
crust	C	“Fuck	it.	We’ll	drill	it”	-says	the
king	of	spades,	despite	the	ambiguity		in the	ramp
corrected		resistivity		plots.	(I	also	over	heard
him	say	once	that	this is	not a	job	for	those
with	loved	ones).	On	Starfish		Lake	we	lay
out	the	wire ,	loop	within	loop	after	loop	within
loop ,	guided	by a	grid	of	neon-vested		sentries
guarding		each	coordinate		pair	making	absolute
unassuming		points.	( come	late	summer	the	ice	will
thaw	and	the	pickets	will	scatter	and	float	on the
lake	©	stars	in the	sky )	nothing	definite		nothing
defined	. It’s	a struggle		just	to see	with	a light	that
sheds	no	definition ,		our	senses	deprived		by the
bleak	(C)	white	expanse	-	let	alone	to find	©
diamonds		under	a	frozen	lake	. We	toil	as the
sun	circles	around	the	horizon	in a	day	that	will
never	end .	We are	the	eyes	and	ears	that	work
for a	wage	but	that	will	never	see	a	single
diamond. C		the	hands	that	pull	the	purse	strings
will	never	taste	their	own	blood	, as	they	wait
in the	warmth	of the	core	shack-	Never	to	taste	the
Caribou	migrating		in	mass	numbers	like	refugees
and	the	wolves	in a	calculated		pursuit	- What	it
must	be	like	to be	so	hungry	and	cold	, to
drink	the	fresh	steaming		blood	brewed	by	years
of	chewing	lichen	off of	rocks	under	hard-	packed	snow
and	ice .	These	men	can	pull	the	trigger	that
blood-	stains	the	angelic	white	feathers of the		ptarmigan
but	they	can’t	taste	the	need	©	, the	dry
cold	desire.	Blinded	by the	dredging		nets	they	drop
through	holes	in the	ice-	these	are	men	that	hunt
to	kill	and not	to eat,	trying	to see	something		they
will	never	©	be	able	to see	, sucking		the
life	out	of a	buck	as they	bring	it into	their	sights
They	sign	the	checks	that	harden	our	pupils	into ©
magnets	and	harness	the	©-flux	into	numbers	, to	live
like	ghosts	on an	eggshell . C		A	nail	hangs	on a
string	below	a	bare	light	bulb	that	never	has a
need.	A clock	‘ticks’	off	time	( we	invent	a schedule
in the	absence	of	daily	closure	) the	diesel	trucks	are
kept	running	24	hours	a day	in	fear	that	they
will	never	start	again.	The	rest	of us	split	into
12	hour	shifts.	We	pretend	to	sleep	, guarding
the ©	treasures		under	our	pillows	in	tents	warmed
by	burning	aviation		fuel.	But	not too	warm	or we
will	melt	right	through	to the	bottom	of the	lake.	Grasp
the	diamonds		and	they	melt	like	ice	in your
hands .	I know	the	others,	like me	, are	afraid	to	sleep
out of	fear	that	the	relentless		monotony		of the
next	day	will	come	too	soon	. But	no	one
dares	speak	of	it.	A	cigarette		is lit	a
cough ,	a fart,	the	rustling		of	feathers		in our
cocoons	©	punctuating		the	snoring	of	those	who
do doze	off ,	and the	hum	of the	generator		set	back
from	camp	-	these	are	all	the	tell-tale
signs	that	what	we are	dealing	with	is ©	entropy	here
sleeping		on a	lake	over	diamonds		. When	we do
speak	it’s	always	a	sarcastic		joke	, mock	accents
and	bitter	complaints		“Remember		that	dying	cook
we	called	“coffin	dodger”	that	eventually		fell	through
the ice	by the	pump	house”	?	Smiles	and	laughter
with	forks	in our	fisted	hands.	“That	was	something, eh?”
Diamonds		are	forever	, that	is	their	allure	. They
are not	the	transient		ice	roads	or the	annual	landing
strips	on the	lake	we	landed	on	. They	are	the
hardest	of all	elements (C)		they	are	immune	to the	chill
a lump	of over	cooked	charcoal		(carbon	is	carbon)	it’s
all in	how	they	are	arranged		the	crystalline
lattice	of	C’s	that	gives	it	value	. To	us
it	lays	under	ice	thicker	than	I am	tall	, and
then	beneath	the	water	, and	beneath	the	ground	©
something		to be	discovered		, not	created	, to be	divined
Diamonds		are	where	you	find	them	(the	crew
chiefs	will	never	get	this)	. I am	told	the	Aurora
Borealis		is	caused	by	charged	ions	cascading
through	the	earth’s	magnetic		fields	. So	C	much
water	and	not a	drop	to	drink	. It’s	all	frozen
into	the	bones	of my	crimson	chrysalis		like	the
fish	sleeping		in the	deep	blue	pallor	under	the ice
the	C-gulls	scratch	the	surf	ice	. Our	hides	are
thickened		by the	artic	wind	that is	as cold	as	greed
Our	stomachs		are	full	of	chipped	teeth	and the
blood	of	gemstones		. Our	eyes	thread	the	needle
of the	compass	©	Diamonds		on a	barbed	hook	bait
the	forest	dawn				©	©	©

Derek White is the editor of SleepingFish magazine. His writings have been recently published or are forthcoming in The Styles, Lungfull, Elimae, Exquisite Corpse, Café Irreal, Diagram, Snow Monkey and elsewhere (full list publications at www.calamaripress.com/publications.htm).