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Swearing Off ... again
By Richard Fewell

Sinking
slowly
(5th time down)...
The fish do not want me,
they stare accusingly,
at this intruder,
a bizarre blow/fish/man
soaring downward
like a wrong/way balloon
in an up/side/
down world...
Barnacles anchor me
crawfish scoot away
sand exhausting in my eyes,
clams pinch my toes (there's
a fire in the water!)...
Seaplants slap my bulging jaws, and
in the shroud of octopus dye
I see that
nobody came
to my funeral
nobody came!
Lungs screaming
blue gospels
I float back
to the hell above
air lights
leading the way ...

Copyright 1993, Richard Fewell, All Rights Reserved.




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Document last modified on: 01/06/2007

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