A Sisyphean task
The weight of all that remains unspoken between us pins us like butterflies against the cold side of the dark moon. The sun watches what I do, but the moon knows all my secrets. At the beach tonight I considered wading in the blue black depths to drift into the dark. Then I saw a dead fish & got all skeezed out. I’m a vegetarian mostly, which is surprising to some. On occasion I will have fish. But it has to be a specific fish. It needs to be salmon. It’s got to be wild salmon. & it has to be caught in the reservoir in the island of Delusionland. & it has to be bird caught. By a particular kind of bird, the carrier pigeon. & not just any carrier pigeon, the unique one that I yelled at on August 11 2016 for saying I was an idiot when I told it I once saw a neat birdhouse so I paid rent to the owner to wear it as a waterproof helmet. & it needs to be caught with its feet, not in its mouth, not with a fishing pole. These are my terms. I tried to accept fish from some b...