Whale Day Dissection

Dry Lagoon, wet with Inches of water from the rain
Inches of blubber; thick skin.
The whale is washed on the beach by roaring Humboldt waves.
Now women dig deep into its flesh with knives; knives that have to be sharpened every 15 cuts.
The baleen is being removed, the cut up tongue in the sand, looks like 6 different brains, bright Red.
The hip bones will come out, they are evolutionary evidence that whales, which once walked upon our forests, wetlands, and beaches now swim deep into our mysterious seas and no longer need big hips to support legs. The hips are only as big as my hands on this one year old whale. Recording science, placed in plastic bags...
I saw whiskers on his chin, white like sea foam, to blend into the wisks of water as the whale swims through the sea. The baby gray whale is so big compared to a human. There were 15 people standing and observing, a teacher, a scientist, photographers, students, even a dog. There are lots of ladies getting into the flesh of such a sacred baby animal.

Grey whales
Barnacles so beautiful
and lice that lives on the gray smooth skin,
Your skin a marble of different whites and grays.
Home in the sea, for us now to sea,
we welcome all of your spirit, and off gas (smelly) to enter our beings.
Whale on the beach, you are here to teach,
to become all of us within your reach.
Your body is curved and mangled in the debris,
how did you get hurt in the sea?
A boat, a propeller,
a killer whale?
Strips on your fins, make me curious,
your life need be longer, and stories longer told.
You are a girl, only one year old.


This is my first whale dissection story told.
Writing to change the world.
Iya May