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fishermans song of despair

by aaron a. abeyta

una cancion desesperada    or    oncorhyncus mykiss


in my trout dream

you are twin to the dawn

the pearl of your belly

that is the sky in the

brief breaths    the moments

of sunless light   a wash of pink

guazing at the center of you

ghosting away at your caudal edges

and in the human chamber

of my heart   where it

hilts up against the primal

and the uncharted

i assume that on the fifth day

God had grown weary and therefore

created you to perfect

the domes and orbits that preceded you

so that every possible

sky might be foretold

there upon

your wet body

this shadowless light

milks its white breath

against the river    and there

in the riffles and the deep pools

the trout queue themselves

in a braid of shadows

they are the movement of dreams

what man looked upon when he created music


consistently as the slow dreams

where i hold you

i remember that the phoenicians

had an alphabet

the egyptians   written words

but neither was blessed enough to

have written your name    to have

held you in the God light of dawn

and what of that fourth chamber

the one whose room

has flooded and is yours

the dead trees along the river

have forgotten what they are

everything is part wish

part shadow     this indescribable light

of madrugada rubbing itself

against this river   and i should not have

touched you    and because of you

dreamt of rain or a slope of trees or

a moonlit snowstorm or a ribbon

of stars landed and touchable

your body a constellation

to my wishes


spilling back into the river

toward the secret spot of the human body

the haunt of you

barely there in my hand