Fish Hell (Poem 14* of 30: 2016)

I don’t really know where to start
(I say that too often, I know)
I’ve always been fuzzy on endings and beginnings
All events share some level of interconnectivity
Most of the time I’m pretty convinced that
Reality is similar to the infinity tank
At the Monterey Bay Aquarium
Or wire on an electromagnet
But I always felt so awful on behalf of the fish
I guess I could easily restate that as
I felt bad for myself
That, however, would be paraphrasis
(Of which I am not a fan)
So, I won’t
I did always feel bad for the fish though
The way a Great White will die in captivity
The unfortunate thing about it
Humans have forced a need for conservancy
And captivity can sometimes be
The difference between extinction and repopulation
Another choice for Sophie, I guess..

I’m probably thinking about this
Because I watched a fish die today
It upset the fuck out of me
But there wasn’t a damned fucking thing
I could have done
It just floated there, belly up
Out of reach and twitching
It probably contracted something
That resulted in dysfunction of its swim bladder
Not that I’m any sort of fucking fish expert
I’m not
If I could have gotten to it
All I could have done was end it
But I didn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t whatever
I’m a vegetarian and a coward so the fish suffered

I think the most fucked up thing about it
And the thing I feel worst about
Is that fish memory is supposedly insanely short
Given that fact, from the fish’s point of view
It spent every moment of its life
In an infinite loop of agony and fish fear
My inaction sentenced that poor fish
To what I can only describe as Fish Hell
I’m somewhere, then, between Fish Peter and Fish Satan
(To bogart a construct relatable to a western audience
I could have easily gone in the Hades direction
Or I could have accepted it as a physical
And therefore transitory and perhaps invalid state
Or I could have called myself greyface
But I’m a big believer in communicated point
Trumping my love of Esoterica
God/Dess of antiquated knowledge)
But I’m also assuming fish feel things
Like pain and fear

I really hope the song was right
But I still can’t bring myself to eat them

*I know, I know. I’m late. I’m sorry. (I’ll get caught up on the rest tomorrow) It’s been a long day and all that bullshit. Empty words and exhausted bromide. I had dog walks and work and sullen sensitive unoriginality. Self loathing, cleaning, and chats about the metaphysic, kayaking, native cultures, and watermelon beer with the coolest dude (and maintenance man) alive. I was honest to a cashier about being undercharged and she gave me a free sandwich coupon. Life could be worse. And it was so shitastically spring out. Being in felt like wasting away. And I had coffee to drink. Songs to listen too. And I even finished some pages on the comic and AND I filed my damned tax extension. So, yeah. Nailing it. Oh, and I read some transcriptions of Cree Anwe legends. Good. Day.


About Moly

Average, boring, self-involved human. Twitter: @CultOfCocktails Facebook:
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