Pisces Poem by Francie Lynch
Pisces
Speared on the trident tines
Of a new world order,
Wiggling, dripping,
Unable to close eyes
Staring out both sides of faces
With an astonished, unbelieving pall.
Some will be fried with rice,
Some eaten raw with vodka,
Some battered with fries at Disneyland.
Out of water, gasping,
Coaxed from the shallows
With blinding light,
Baited from the depths
To be speared.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/19/2024 2:44:33 AM # 1.0.0.1119
