you cannot eat a koi fish

by Sarah Parker





chipped brown bridge. wide koi pond.

river water floats, brimming blushing

copper pennies. metal draws the sun

down between the green-gold ripples

on the water’s surface. honey-pink bellies

float, soft and feathered, just beneath.

a wildflower skyline braces the brown

mountains, tipping gold hands toward

sun-stained tops. something soft moves

in the rosy wind as brown-haired girls float.

running. fast-beating hearts. a copper-

yellow field.



crimson water burnt out red. swallow, don’t swallow

               crochet lips     cold blue


 

one of them cuts across the grass.

over water. her bright blushing cheeks shine

in the golden light, melting sunny freckles

on her nose as she bowls through the

soft rose wind. pressing gold between the

shallow waves. she points her body toward

the sun, lets the light peel the shrunken words from her soft honey chest; gold

leaves sprout from her open hands, crowning beneath her fingernails as

she tips her honey hands

toward shining mountain tops.



puckered fish     needle in the eye     swallow me swallow me

               sew     my own eyes           shut.




hands in the water, a lily pad stuck to the

edges of her palm. honeysuckle glue.

sweet body               soft eyes

crescent fingers        curl,

a body      caught      inside.



river koi body / broad bloated swollen gouged / stolen child / of some other place / ocean islands

               twined / kamikaze straits—




you cannot eat

a koi fish. a seine

is not used for

this, only

my hands.




only hands     raw.

eyes               cavernous.

fingernails      salient.

                      cuspidate.

                      tapering, keen. 

 

dirt beneath scales     purple green, muddy

                                   black blue

                                   almost a sponge, sucking the earth up into its amphibious body, bones,

                                   cropped brain, muscle, vesicle.

blood in the grass      fish guts, open in the

                                   mud. mingling. earth.

                                   stone. dirt. rock

                                   against rock sharp,

                                   thin; shank born of

                                   bloodthirst, of

                                   meekness, weakness.

                                   of power-     lessness.

lifting a hand, finger to her blush toned mouth, she           sucks, swallows.

           fish breath.

           ugly thing, ugly

           girl.


eat me, she said. eat me raw. open. bloody.

           rotten            my body will swell

bloated gouged                   fold my body

           into your mouth        swallow me

           whole.





back to University & College Poetry prizes