SPOTLIGHT: Confused Fish by Alexandria M.

Confused Fish

Full, fat raindrops
Fall from the sky into
Ripples of foreign water
Where familiar faces meet.
Where fish swim their
First year in the flood.
Frantically fleeing from
Impacting rainfall
Flushing their freshwater pond.
Fins full of fear
They’ll never forget
It’s the end!

Danger in the Produce Isle

The Celery grew hands and thumbs
And big, long fingernails.
They taught it how to shoot a gun
And pull on my pig-tails.

The kiwi grew a seedy leg
And was learning how to hop.
They taught it how to shoot and aim
And gave it a sling shot.

The banana stripped its peel
And tossed it on the floor.
They taught it how to swiftly kill
And so I left the grocery store.


Swirling, twirling
In the kitchen
Toes gripping on ceramic tile,
Letting imprints from the edges
Scrape my flesh.
The open pantry
Filled with corn nuts, chocolate pudding
Muffins bellow.
Wavy fish crackers, a basket of onions
Whose skin litters the floor.
Stocked and full
Of any food of every food of…

It may as well be cotton and
Paint. Cans of scented air spray
Reaching out with aches of
Hunger, reaching out
With metal tongs for a bowl of
Batteries, I mean bananas
With my hands.
On the counter
Jars of polished wax,
Inedible foods on each side of me.

Some store bought.
Some homemade.
There is butane in the fridge.

In a hardware store
One wouldn’t think to eat the nails
It is not safe, not safe
So I won’t eat the nuts and bolts
Or drink the cans of paint.
Instead I stay hungry, stay hungry
And safe, crying on the floor
In hunger pains,
On the tiles and imprints
And wonder
Where the food had gone
And wonder
When I’ll eat again.


Pushed into the mouth of the Observer;
Violated by well-meaning masses.
Growing in the pit, gnawing with fervor.
A demon was created — their lashes,
Relentless; Offended, food fascists,
Unable to understand resistance
Of the confused at violent advances.
Who would listen to a child’s insistence
That they are not hungry and haven’t been since,
They made food the enemy. Using guilt,
And fear; don’t break social norms. Eat with us!
But the child refuses, unable.
Forced to endure the funnel and duct-tape,
‘Cause “No” only matters when it is rape.

The Word that I Hate

I hate that fucking word
That flutters around
Like gnats from a drain in
Everyone’s house
In everyone’s car like
Cold air in the winter
And then warm air in dry eyes
And then now they burn
So turn off the heater and now
It’s cold again.

Anxiety. Anxiety.
Like an answer to every question.
It’s always the answer
It’s always the reason
That stupid fucking word.
It’s overused and misunderstood and
I don’t care what it means.

Like an unexpected guest when
The house has been silent
A project’s been started
And now there’s a friend at the door that has
Walked a long distance with freshly baked cookies and
They got mud on the carpet
And let out the cat
And chased off the silence…

But they’re no good at speaking,
So now I have to fill it.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s