Anchovies
we’ve come
all the way from Oklahoma for locals
to ask if we’re celebrities
No she says climbing out of
the back of a convertible
in a bathing suit with an almost
empty bottle
when we thought no one
was watching everyone
was watching
and forever meant nothing
when we had forever
when we could be as plentiful
as the millions of anchovies circling the pier
when we should be converting a safer habitat
Sarah’s dropped her art program again
and we’re surveying our reflection because
sometimes the future is wrapped so tightly in itself
that to dream of it
is using the same
conventions that failed us
I knew less about the body
when as many half naked women lined the beach
as fish littering the sea
iridescent baby hair on the small of someone’s back
as she turns over
and falls back to sleep
No she says again
but I’ve been drugged twice
both times I came to
in Texas
while the anchovies suffer the threat of
California halibut
she asks if I remember
the trip we took to Galveston in college
No I say
you’ve got me
confused with someone else
Originally published by: This Land