The water

A the water’s edge
The fish moves
Images foundered and fearful from before
In seaweed
In muddy sand
In cracks in the rocks
Grown slimy in the water.

The fish: reptile
The fish: hanged man’s tongue
Membrane still held by a slaughters beast
Hazy plucked-out star the fish in the shallows.

—-

Digression about the spider

Striking the spider
The spasm of its legs
That falling contract and tangle together
In three closed corners
The whole spider shrinking
Death when it suddenly comes
With a swift pain from the strike
And that strength you have in your hands
The image collects for a few moments
As passing you saw it on the wall
Walking with its eight legs
In a strange rhythmical arrangement
The rapid change
In the sight, starting with the strike,
Transforms what was innocent in intent.

*From the “Diary of Age”.