Be Afraid of Fish
Be afraid of fish.
Be afraid of fish that have no voice.
Be afraid of fish that are soul-shaped.
Be afraid of fish that are the alphabet at the bottom of man's memory.
Be afraid of fish that are more aged than man or tortoise.
Be afraid of fish that came into being when water did.
Be afraid of fish that know every strand of bog moss, yet keep silent about it.
Be afraid of fish that are more shadowy than the shadow in the water which is more dreamy than the dream.
Be afraid of fish that silently slip in and out of your nightly dream.
Be afraid of fish that remain in the water even when they mate.
Be afraid of fish whose gills continue to move even while alseep.
Be afraid of fish that move their mouths, afloat, with their air bladders, in watery heaven.
Be afraid of fish, that are softer than lovers when caught.
Be afraid of fish, the foul feeders, that swallowed a god's phallus that was twisted off and discarded.
Be afraid of fish that shed human tears when broiled on fire.
Be afraid of fish that are your fathers, that are your mothers.
Be afraid of fish that occupy your entirety the morning after you were bored by fish.
Be afraid of fish that remain fish-shaped even after turning into bones.
As for the fish bones, put them on your palms and return them to the water,
going down, barefoot, to the beach where your sewage pipe empties itself.