The Venerable Fisherman Speaks Again of His Days

To fish            to knowtheir mouthsthe shimmering fleshthe thrash within        the netflick of knife          fleck of scales

                                    Who can smile looking back?

Once I was a fishermana manof the water       blood-soaked deck and slickerof the mud        and its secret pocketsof the water and what catches the light            below            water that cools the skina manof the rivulet and the rivedbelly pouring out its quick life

                                    I look over the hills                                    as if forgiveness might be found just over them—

I was a fishermanI had a wife       I had children I could feed            whose palms were plump as fish bellies            always dancing      jumping

There was a storm      no other sign

                                    A boat is indifferent

North or South I was a fisherman                                a fishermanI had a wife who was not yet cleavedI had children eager at play as carp

                                    Some I threw back      it's trueI was     not a spyso when the prong slid electric between my legsI thought it was an eel                      perhaps it recognized meperhaps                                              I had chopped off its head

                                    Torture?

My hands danced in front of my face then      uptoward a light A song played in my right earThe perfect song for             a day I could not holdOutside my wife swam away undulant as a strandof hair swirling beneath the surfacephlegm    spit   blood   piss        the outpouringsof the body        I will spy

                I was never a spy

                              I have been thrown back into the world                              with a hook in my mouth

My hands jump at unexpected timesmocking           flappingWith my feet in the iced tub I saw            a fish at my ankles      It was my childcome to save me          I reached for—but the fish slid from my grip        a shimmer             under the surface       a thrashing carp             convulsively mouthing        goodbye goodbye goodbye goodbye

                              Are you listening?

I said    I am no spy       Ask the fishI said    Only release me and I—

only want to go home

                                    Come        let's walk to the river                                    Let's hear what the fish have to say