Voice of the fish: a lyric essay

In water disjointed from me

Last night, a pike swam up the stairs

That day the haddock

My mother photographs me in a bath of dead squid

As for the tilapia

Last night, a doctor handed me a glass of water

The conviction of things not seen

Under the fishes

And the fish in the river shall die

The Georgian military road

Last night, sturgeon swam the streets

Speaking reliquary

What manner of land

Judgement run down as waters

With the moths' eyes

Last night, the sea spat my body

Ink

Anything that makes a mark, anything that takes a mark

And the Lord spake unto the fish

Last night, the moon flooded the bedclothes

- Tongue stones

I am poured out like water

Last night, eels crashed from the faucet.