O the pile of fish gleaming
So you can't even see the
Woman saying, "Honey, what's
Your number?" You stare at her
What seems like hours.
What keeps you from just
Going round the counter? It's
Not so far and then you'll
Get to hear your name
In every language, hear
How the flounder might fit
You in its mouth, how the urchin
Would open so you could
See its soft palate, how when
You move just past the tines
And push it says, "please"
And tightens round your finger O
The mysteries you turn away from
By simply heading for the train
Or picking up the phone, tap tap
Tapping on the keys waiting
For the right time when all around
The world is jostling you,
Telling you it's ready.
From the Mortality Sessions
Gabrielle Calvocoressi

From the Mortality Sessions

Gabrielle Calvocoressi

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