Fish Tank

Deepened blue, fluorescent heaven,

Sprawling through Adams ale,

Crawling over jagged fins and smooth teeth.

Taping scriptures unknown to me,

Poseidon's creations do,

Mine ears closed to morse.

Fish lips dilating,

Too thin to speak,

Glass, too thick to hear, anyways.

Hammering the corners,

Michelangelo, teaching to chisel,

I only know to paint.

Let me waste these lessons,

Splotch over scriptures, I teach myself, not teachers of past,

Couldn’t understand italian, anyways.

Spiders weaving over glass,

Webs of water,

Leaking across the windowsills facet.

Spilling over me,

I see through, inside, from outside,

Can’t breathe, in there.

Flood over me,

Damp hair leaving me,

Dripping eyelashes, better two pairs than four, anyways.

I prefer my God’s creations, those writing,

Over land, wind, air,

I prefer my legs under,             not over.

Breathing, spitting, sputtering, breathe, spit, sputter

I was never a swimmer.

Could never see through marble, anyway.