To a Mummified Fish

               —Museo Egizio, Turin



by Mitch VanAcker





Down surging watercourse,

swept from your silent blue home,

you became a prop

for our old dilemma

wrangled, wrapped, and rescued

from your guts.



Your drum-tight skin

leafs beneath cloth and honey-lacquer

to snare the spirit of holy dregs,

fleshpots, sweet incense at interval

in the morning air

capped from the widening jaws

of the moon-door.



On behalf of my friend, the sun

(author of many gods)

and the priestess

who poached you

from oblivion,

Little fish, I’m sorry.





back to University & College Poetry Prizes