what sprang from the head of the fish

a little disclaimer to ease my nerves and some background info about me, if you were curious...

i have been writing poems since 2nd grade and yes, i still remember the first poem i ever wrote - no, i will not tell you, so don't even ask...

i don't remember when i gave up on rhyming and structure - it was so long ago - but i do remember the swelling sense of freedom it gave me and so i never looked back, though i do occasionally write some experimental form poetry, it almost never rhymes...

but sometimes and without warning rhyming happens in lyrical form- so here is the latest which sprang from the head of my fish:



the world smells of gasoline
but i'm a painted lily
singing songs to you
in passing phrase
of days i could not see

i wish that you could breathe my air
and help me bring the sun
but you, my dear
are far from here
chasing vodka with the dawn

they're burning all the houses down
and torching fresh cut grass
but we've been dead
for longer years
than the pope's been chanting mass

the world smells of gasoline
but i have lost my mind
and you got lost
between the drops
when we left the frame behind


i haven't found a name for this - suggest a title if you dare...