I bought a fish
and called him Chipset
I made a tank
of crooning gleam
and held him there
belly posed on waters' palm
his fish parts shone with usefulness
he had a clear need
we did experiments
explored together
the man-fish interface
he called me dull-skinned one
I told him about our troubles
he made a fish frown
and swayed as if to shake
his neckless head
he hummed me soothing bits
of Harold Budd
after a few
we sang hits from the '70S
for air guitar and burble
he marvelled at my shaved scalelessness
and called it wisdom
he felt the lapping closeness
of the world that water brings
I knew the tank was too small for him
and for my long rogue wave
of imminent sorrow
so I sealed the house
waxed frames and keyholes
spun the wobbly taps
until the searing rush dulled
beneath the surface
after that his questions drew closer
less stochastic
he asked about wheel clamps
food in chains
and why at times
he felt so heavy-tailed
I bit the greying rubber
of my trombone snorkel
answered through my cheek bones
then reached below
and cupped him in my hand

Milan          February 2007