http://www.russelljaffeusa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/THE-BIG-TUNA1.pdf
The
Big Tuna
I'm
rolling in an ocean tank
called
Coralville
When
the wind comes shooting across the roof
and
I hear the metal ripple
sounding
like a large tuna can opening
Oh
it's a damn big tuna can about 80 feet in length
I'm
the big tuna sitting inside
cut
to pieces that fit
by
the death of my mother whose eyes dried up
like
an old lemon in the fridge
no
more sting
no
more sour
then
it ripples one more time
her
best friend floats belly up in the tank 7 days later
and
then the lid finally reveals the meat inside
my
best friend
slips
across the great barrier reef
I
feel like the goddam tuna of death
because
I went swimming with them all before I left
I
fishtailed into their worlds to make my report
only
to be gutted
As
each one was hooked with no release
the
hooks pulled chunks of my life
away
into this odd shaped can
The
wind ripples across the top of my house
one
more time
and
I'm the tuna again
trying
to reattach my fins
to
get the hell out of here
the
thoughts of things undone
incomplete
friendships and projects
pulled
into a new tank
where
my pieces just don't make sense
because
I'm still a tuna cut up in the can
thinking
about how to swim away
from
what I feel
only
to find I have been skinned
no
longer raw
cooked
in the can
and
no ocean in sight
swimming
in some unnamed oil
an
oil that washes up on a dark shore
that
cooks as it kills
Welcome
to the can it says
you
chose the oil instead of the water
I'm
just the fish in this sandwich
Maybe
being the bread on the outside
could
more appealing
as
the teeth of the world sink into them first
which
means I've forgotten
that
even the bread gets eaten
so
nothing makes it out of the can
or
the sack
or
the mayo jar
nothing
makes it out alive
All
we're left with is empty cans
crumbs
and dirty dishes
for
someone else to clean up
Copyright
© 2014 by Barry G. Wick All rights reserved.
published by USA online, Russell Jaffe, Editor
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