Fishmongers

April

WaterBirds

Me at the turn of the season

AndStillStuck —

The story continues

a catapult is what

I am building

out of

soy lattes

and nutmeg

steaming truth in paper cups

It’s kind of a journey through

tunnels

a progression

Sometimes, food just tastes

like soapy water

Delusions of grandeur

illusions

or

that my Sheer Love will

Save

All the Things I hold Dear

yes these are their

Real Names

Ice     Sky     Water   Sun

My transgressions are

many

All the paper cups…

I even forgot how I

Love You

Mother Earth

for a set of fantasies

left out to wilt

in the sun

then buried so close

they shrank to dust

not Fairy dust, Let

me be  clear

Have you ever seen Bone Dust?

I turned in my taxes

Because

That is what all the Good Girls do.

I found him, and He

believes in me

He would hang the sky for me             even

after I darted like a fish

in a pond

[  “you promised you’d Stay” ]

Bewildered, he pulled my

guts out, one springy little vertebra

at a time

I heard about Bodies, buried

in gardens

Civil War heroes, murdered temptresses (flash of red lips)

All the Ghosts of my Imagination

I’m thinking of a Canada

goose

proud fishmonger fairy tale

I think they eat grass ?

There are other fish

mongers with curved

beaks

Canada goose gains glory

by long necked grace

and is chased by Dogs and

Groundskeepers alike

And Revered

For coming

Back

Anyway

I turned 35 without an inkling

of joy

I peered at my Skin

and felt Clouded

The Ultimatum was up

And, you know, wearing

the weight of Everyone’s

Disappointment would

feel cleaner than this

A Loon, (the next fishmonger of my imagination)

is

an Opera singer

a Diver

A loon is a shameless flirt

a heft of spotted shoulder

narrow throat and hidden Bosom

above all

Untouchable

Night spectres suffocate, and so I

play water chimes from

dusk

until Dawn