Call Me Lucky: Maybe I Shouldn’t Eat Fish

This thing may leave my body,

taking the pathways in my arms with it.

Imagine pulling a fish spine

from a half eaten corpse.

That’s a panic attack.

The bones are discarded, but

continue, eat the demolished flesh.

The bubbling soup has a sound too,

less sporadic

and nothing depends on it to live,

yet the youngish Chinese waitress relights

the flame when she sees

the soup doesn’t beat anymore,

as though it does.

Don’t you think it’s a little cruel to cut something in half,

just so you can splay both eyes to see you eating?



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