A poem for my fellow Pisceans, whose sign we are in.


guppy in
a plastic bag

goldfish in a

we are tailor-made for
this element

but do
not presume
take us for granted

in the blinking if an eye
massive change is done
huge as
a submarine a dorsal fin

my, your, our dorsal fin
tall as a yacht mast
breaking the wave

jaws (a nest of razors nothing
can compare with)
tearing seals
to pieces