Jellyfish

If I awoke a jellyfish the 
ocean would fold on top of itself 
and begin expansion. If I 

were to swim forward and 
backward at once the universe would 
metastasize into two 

mirrored dolphins—to search 
is a vacant profession. We are 
all a double of something. The currents 

swirl the wet, sandy floors, the currents swirl 
the dry, red bricks out from under our 
intoed feet. The jellyfish tailgates the human 

unaware of our sudden break.




About the Author: Lawrence Eby wr
ites from Southern California and is currently an MFA student at California State University – San Bernardino. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in the Black Tongue Review, Poetry Quarterly, THRUSH, Apercus Quarterly, Superstition Review, as well as others. In 2012, he was shortlisted for the Poets & Writers California Writers Exchange award. In addition to chairing the Inlandia Institute’s Publications Committee, he is a founding member of PoetrIE, an Inland Empire-based literary community and Editor-in-Chief of Orange Monkey Publishing, a small poetry press. At CSUSB, he is the Poetry Editor for Ghost Town, the school’s national literary magazine.