Thursday, April 3, 2008
Fish Tank
Oscar and the other one. Two big fish. The Plecostomus has his mouth to the glass—a bottom feeder. I read the descriptions 3 times over but can’t remember much besides Oscar and he calls the other one a pig. I suppose they’re trying to be humorous. And I count the bubbles coming up beneath the rocks. A poster advertises an old time remedy—a cure-all from coughing to diarrhea. When I stare at my palms I wonder if a fortune teller could read the blood pooling and the gouged skin. And what would she say as she bobbed her red-scarved head and her golden hoops swayed? And I count the bubbles again and tell myself, Concentrate. Two guys walk in. They look okay to me so I want to cough wimps. But I look at the fish and wonder if they like the picture pasted on the back of their tank. It has oversized rocks and different species of seaweed but it doesn’t seem like any real home. Stupid fucking bubbles. But I wait. I hold my arm and bloody hands. And I think of how they remind me of Jesus. I suppose He didn’t even mumble shit as they nailed His hands. Nurse Paul finally brought me back to the crinkling papered seat. He looked at my hands and washed them clean. I was a child again and he said, Go ahead, it’s okay to cry. So I bit my lip and swallowed—cause damnit, I wasn’t a kid anymore.
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2 comments:
i love this one too!! i need to learn how to cuss in my poetry, i've not done it yet.. i really like the ending, and the beginning intrigued me right away
Unlike Renee, I found the profanity incongruous, both on an artistic as well as a spiritual level. As concerns the former, I tend to be more classical in my approach to the subject, believing profanity to be permissive in dialogue alone. I realize that puts me squarely at odds with many postmodern authors - e.g. Salinger - but I find a tension when authors, in seeking to extol the virtues of concepts and ideas they find sacred, profane the sanctity of others.
As concerns the latter, I see the same contrast deplored by James in his third chapter. To laud the suffering Savior in terms so crass mingles terms of worship and worthless words.
I noted that on this blog your use of profanity is largely limited to this poem - I hope it's so because you've changed your poetic methodology rather than that you've become more selective as to what poems you post. Hopefully your art continues to grow down a different path than this.
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