Fishmonger's yelling--
their tone; open, penetrating
casting shadows with wet rubber soles
Puddles of sleet.
The first it snowed, dominoes trample, the ground shakes
gravity forces bowing of
concrete ice sheets
that rest above raging flows
fish knew what had happened
surrounded by scales
weighing the blame
An addict who is crying, lashing, calling out
for an intervention
finally sets a date
From here his voice still echoes in my cranial apartments
spaces to rent, pets allowed under 65lbs...
$300 deposit....
the fishmongers yelling still
singing their gilled vibrato chorus
I'll learn to live by the stormy ocean
and love myself, my voices and my choices
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 4:22 PM UTC
Fishmonger's yelling--
their tone; open, penetrating
casting shadows with wet rubber soles
Puddles of sleet.
The first it snowed, dominoes trample, the ground shakes
gravity forces bowing of
concrete ice sheets
that rest above raging flows
fish knew what had happened
surrounded by scales
weighing the blame
An addict who is crying, lashing, calling out
for an intervention
finally sets a date
From here his voice still echoes in my cranial apartments
spaces to rent, pets allowed under 65lbs...
$300 deposit....
the fishmongers yelling still
singing their gilled vibrato chorus
I'll learn to live by the stormy ocean
and love myself, my voices and my choices
this poem is more personal than anyone of you will ever understand.. I wish I could explain in more words why I needed to write this
