Denial! Nothing to worry about!
Or over! Or under or run right through
and inside out like an aquarium fish
dancing the ‘8’ around two underwater Buddhas
mistakenly, way back in evolution, given
one name each, from which all conflict
in the universe swam forth with unhinged jaw.
Yes plankton were on the menu long before this,
but hostilities were vegan. Combat flowered later.
Yes mega-zillions of the flocculent and microscopic,
but the jaw was new. It sought.
And no, no-one has ever counted the species.
This is not really me getting frazzled.
It’s my body’s frazzling in the wind today
and eight degrees over last night. 8
being the infinity sign before it had
a very great deal to drink.
I know I’m out of balance. I’ve settled
for lopsided. Because nature is not in balance.
Nature has never been in balance. Our societies
are in balance like toddlers wob-
bling at a ballet class.
In Denial’s choreography the costumes wash
back and forth like seaweed in a tide pool.
The children flounce once more then settle,
as if the ocean’s inexorable, bearing down.
By being small and beautiful, an aquarium fish
is able to complete its entire lifespan
childless and alone except for
two plastic Buddhas and the cat.
It’s ridiculous to feel sorry for a fish!
Fish have been here way longer than us
but they haven’t even got roads. Or TV.
That’s why they’re on the plate, mate.
Come children, I’ve more cute stories.
Our screens today are supported by organic humans.
They have capitulated inside themselves, but
they feel it too early to open the hatch for you.
‘There’s still time!’
‘It’s not a lie, it’s a euphemism,’ they lie,
looking up from their phones as leprechauns
in scuba gear slide by on electric surfboards
sculling wave-froth like Guinness;
as council strives to keep the ocean underwater.
‘We were only joking about the fish.
Let’s say it all together! There’s still time!’.
