Two Fish, Carl Sandberg

Their speech could not possibly have been scarlet

Unless they were dead,

Then, maybe, in the throes of being

Pulled in by a hook through the lip

MAYBE their speech could have been scarlet.

Or did you mean “scar-lipped”?

Late night typo, perhaps?

Oh, I get it… he kissed her, and she’s a biter.

But they kept on talking, bloody water and all.

Wait, though… they met in a bowl of molten gold air?

How did they breathe enough to speak,

Much less kiss? Must have been painful

On those gills – aquatic asthma!

Molten gold does not typically float around

In fishbowls, by the way – at least not in this

Universe.

That swinging from an arch thing?

Those seven rainbow sheens?

Was that one of those fish sex toys or something?

I’m confused. Swinger fish?

I’ve always thought of them as a rarity.

And, about the grotto, didn’t you say it was a bowl

Of molten gold air?

Or did he take her home?

Ok, I’ll buy the grotto bit.

The little boy fish hailed from the projects,

So to speak.

Ah, but the green feather dust…

Dead bird in the water?

Makes sense. Shaking their fins

As they each nibble a drumstick.

Ok, so, I guess we’ve got it straight now.

Two fish, met, had a one night stand

At his place,

Then grabbed a bite to eat

When a bird dropped dead.

Probably one shot by a hunter

With an old bird dog.

Ok. We’re good.