Thursday, December 20, 2012

Fish Story

A Life

“A memoir is how one remembers one’s
own life, while an autobiography
is history requiring research,
dates, facts double-checked” opines Gore Vidal

setting us free to set all of it down
bound only by the porous net of our
recollection hauled dripping from the sea
slack save for a goggle eyed mackerel

ogling a hard knot of glistening green
crabs tangled as grandma’s fake jewelry 
and plastic six-pack cuffs in great bristling
hanks.  Arrayed on deck to dry in the sun

reeking of brine, repelling all but the
hardiest of gulls worthless talisman’s
resisting all but the most inventive
gypsy readers, I paw through the meager

haul clad in my oilskins and nor’easter
fillet knife clenched in my teeth awash in
sloshing viscera as I gut the past
heaving chum to the silent circling sharks.

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