In California, moist fish hooks are a rare delicacy.
The other day a man lost his daughter to a halibut.
I laughed with a belly full of cotton
as her pale heels slipped underneath:
boiled potatoes snagged by a sturgeon
The Fisher King thinks his fragments
are puzzle pieces. Each piece a gourmet slab.
The daughters scan the surface,
pick out the darker oceans for feeding.
This piece means a toenail-extension,
means a jittering reality. This piece means
certain destuction and is written in Byzantium heiroglyphics,
thought lost by some. These people are called Liars
and can light only cowardly flames.
Feeling our heels sinking in quicksand
can only be appreciated by those
who hoped to breathe their whole lives.
--Corey, Roberto, & Carlo Rossi
evocative poem!
ReplyDeletehow do you go about collaborating (with each other, i already know how to collaborate with carlo rossi)? do you switch off line by line or what?
jade
It's the spooks. They tell us to do it, they do.
ReplyDelete