Thursday, February 25, 2010


I am a slippery oiled fish on
a silver tray
plaster-eyed and glassy
skin gray as stone. I've known
a fish-bowled world and
time like a shiny black bomb ticking
to destruction.
You've got me sizzling orange,
stuck, thoughts thick as glue through
my veins
filled halfway now to alabaster pupil--
I lie here
cold as the fish-hooked lip
limp on this altar slab.

I have lots to say and
you really don't care.

Photo above found at:


  1. Wow, a silent cry can be so loud. Lovely images (the bomb, the altar) - i like it.
    Sad, though.

  2. Don't think you corner the market on sad, OM! :-)