It is the swirl of the whirlpool
drawing sea serpents and fish,
crabs, squids and debris
to a molten core
under a teeming sea.
It is the swirl of the galaxy,
a carousing of colors and vapors aflame
whose flimsy sparks are suns
sailing cosmic waterspouts
in spiral dance to siren song.
It is the swirl of the toilet bowl
flushing the excesses of dreams
down a labyrinth to treatment plants,
to river, to gulf stream,
to wash the walls of Atlantis.