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SCHOOL OF FISH
The wind
is getting
saucy today,
a little spit
mixed with
dry winter
leaves.
I didn’t
bring
a shield.
It’s all
getting in
my eyes.
I want
to get
saucy too.
How do
I get
saucy?
Just blow
along
with the wind.
At Deer Park,
near Richmond
American University,
there are dogs
running around.
I used
to have
a dog
named Lady.
And a god too.
I am trying
to reconnect
with nature.
Is it god?
What is
nature?
What is
a dog?
My stress level
was code red.
I was lost
in the crowds
and clinging,
trying to do
things perfect,
and I am waiting
to let go again.
It takes
too long.
I need
a new haircut.
I need
to get new
to see things
different.
What is
the big picture?
Death and nature.
There is
too much job,
not enough life.
An orgasm
and massage
and its code green
for a while.
Up at 3.30 4.30
and out of bed
at 5.30.
Christmas
is on the way
and there is
no way
to stop it.
I am
not home.
Where
is my home?
I am making
a new one.
I need a hug.
I am afraid
if I get a hug
I will forget
all the things
I am supposed
to do.
My ears
are ringing.
My toes
are cold.
It is 7.02.
I am thinking
of my immigrant
status
in the United
States of America.
An immigrant
longs to be
with aliens,
legal or illegal
we are always
aliens.
I want to be
a saucy alien.
This is the weather.
I am going
to turn on
the heater
to warm
up my toes.
I am reading
School of Fish
by Eileen Myles.
Memory is an alien,
dreams are an alien.
I dreamt
about my
favorite aunt
last night.
She bought me
goldfish
at the market
when I was
younger.
This was
in Portadown.
I could hear it
swimming,
bumping up
against the plastic bag.
Last night she was
at the fish
and chip shop.
It was not
a good fish
and chip shop,
and we both
knew it.
I sat
on the curb
near the fish
and chip shop
and said,
it’s not a good
fish and chip shop.
And she nodded.
I had a hat
over my eyes.
I could partially
see, and partially
not see.
I knew
I was dreaming.
I walked on past
my childhood,
to my youth.
There was mosh pit
all around me,
people elbowing,
a great wave.
I swayed like
I was on a boat.
I didn’t try
to dance.
I stayed sitting.
Right smack
in the middle,
with my hat
half covering
my eyes.
Like a half
ass blindfold.
Like the kind
of blindfold
we used
for magic tricks
in my youth,
with Mormon
missionaries
on Monday nights.
It was called
Family Home
Evening.
The blindfold
was not tight,
you could still
see if you put
your head down.
I wasn’t going
anywhere.
I wasn’t resisting
the waves
the crowd
the silent
music
pushing
and rocking me.
I am full
of sauce
at Christmas.
I am not going
home.
Why do we dream?
What good
does it do?
Time goes,
everything changes.
I stayed seated.
I wasn’t going
anywhere.
How big is this world
and what is there
to push against?
I am a goldfish
but I want to be a bird.
I am going to be
a bird today.
I am going
to get a haircut
and start
all over again
with my immigrant
status.
I was eating
raw veggies
but now I am
cooking them.
I am going
to turn on the heater
and read Zen
flash fiction.
I am not escaping
the weather.
The first Zen
flash
fiction
is about a person
not turning
back
after leaving
his old life
of drinking
and gambling
behind.
He became
a zen master.
Even this little
notebook
is ending.
It is the last
day of fall
semester.
Eileen Myles
and Philip Whalen
are my masters:
conversation
warmth
energy
expansiveness
openness
generosity
honesty
engagement.
My alarm
has gone
off.
It is 7.30AM.
I woke up
many hours
early.
The trees
are bare.
All the leaves
have blown away.
Everyone
is on their way
to work
outside
my window
on Commercial
Road.
I am seeing
it like a bird,
with its great
big aerial
view.
I am thinking
of the really
big birds,
but the little
ones too.
I am seeing
it like
a goldfish
swimming
in a little
plastic bag.
what is IT?
This poem
never ends
___________________
___________________
Marcus Slease was born in Portadown, N. Ireland in 1974. At the end of 1985 he immigrated to Las Vegas to become Mormon. He is no longer Mormon or a resident of Vegas. He lives in East London and teaches English as a foreign language. His poetry has been translated and published in Danish and Polish. His latest books are Spanish Fork (Country Music 2014), The House of Zabka (Deathless Press 2013) and Mu (Dream) So (Window) (Poor Claudia 2012). Videos of readings from his work in progress, Another Kind of Mission, are available over here: http://www.youtube.com/