Smoked Fish

Hang the fish fiddly by the tail my friend by the window
Winnowing in the wind of the carbon winter winding fast
Fasten fast as the dust and the dirt and the smoke of hell
Helpless yelpless hapless yet happy perhaps perchance
Chances of a pearl in the gutter rather unlikely like a gutted
Guttural trall of tonnages of metal mental madness flying
Plying prying frying this hair this skin this lung this heart
Heartless in the high honk and clang of human inhumation
Exhumation of orchestral carnage this carriage of carrion
Carrying the carcass of the city foul and desecrant foul of
Sacred grasa concrete masa the poor and the dead of EDSA
Sale at the malls of sadness as my fish smokes in the smog
Smokes in the fog smokes in the smear of my fish fiddling
Fine tuning my signal to the stars sending ending fending off
Offending smells of defiance now my friend my fish is done
Done for and so shall we as we fry-fry and eat-eat poisson

Fatima Lasay, Quezon City
Tuesday, April 15, 2014

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