Notes

the fish]
i caught a tremendous fish
he didnt fight he hadnt fought at all
he hung a grunting weight
battered/venerable/homely
his brown skin hung in strips like ancient wallpaper
fresh and crisp with blood that can cut so badly-
tarnished tinfoil
hung 5 old pieces of fish line
a 5 hair beard of wisdom trailing from his aching jaw
and i let the fish go

the prodigal]
the brown enormous weight that he lived by
with its breathing and thick hair
plastered half way up with glass smooth dung
he might almost endure his exile yet another year more
but evenings the first star came to warn
safe and companiable as in the ark
his shuddering insights beyond his control

filling station]
oil soaked oil permeated
be careful with that match
oil soaked monkey suit
saucy and greasy sons assist him
do they live in the station
grease impregnated wickerwork
some comics provide the only note of colour
somebody waters the plants
somebody loves us all

first death in nova scotia]
my mother laid arthur out beneath the chemographs
below them on the table stood a stuffed loon
arthur fired a bullet into him he hasnt said a word
come say goodbye to your little cousin arthur
the red eyed loon eyed it from its white frozen lake
like a doll that hadnt been painted yet
his eyes shut so tight and the roads deeo in snow

in the waiting room]
it was winter. it got dark early
while i waited i read the national geographic
it was black and full of ashes
a dead man slung on a pole
i was too shy to stop
i couldnt look any higher
i-we-were falling falling
and i was back in it feb 1918
was bright and too hot
a cry of pain that coul of got loud or worse but hadnt?
not very loud or long
three days and ill be 7 yrs old