Author Archives: fishify

About fishify

Writer of short fiction, poetry, and editorials.

Walk at Dawn

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the sky is still blue
the sky is still and blue
the sun only hints at being a part of this like we are a part of this
in this middle of it all
this field
where this field and the makeshift pavement meet like an indecision
bits of one strata dissolving into another
the normally tall golden stalks of grass
erect and proud, now weighed down
with the seriousness of the night before
fleeting
the cool and damp
the incremental impact
the slight change in the atmosphere
as if from positive to negative
and back again

we join hands
one of us shivers
the difference is imperceptible
neither of us speak
as we step in unison
forward
the sky is lighter though not bright
the birds have taken notice and the edges of the field start to come alive
the grasses, their heads full of seeds, crane slightly as the defining forces stoically imply their will
almost with each step there are changes taking place
where our feet meet the ground
where the wet of the grass, on careful occasion, meets with our flesh in dewey transference
a diamond exchange
an offer glistening
pausing, glistening, dropping to the ground

up the hill
around the corner
in amongst the cattle that come into focus as the day makes its way
there is less blue now
more bright
the balance is tipping
the winds are rising ever so slightly
the mist gives way to a clarity upon which we both remark
it feels good
less alone
more engaging
the individual parts, as we make our way along a ridgeline trail, integrate
root, rot, branch, the slight trickle of a spring bubbling up out the earth’s surface
one grip tightens, the other responds
eyes meet, hearts skip a beat
down the hill we go

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and a Pitbull named Perry

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shirt tucked tightly, smoothed over the contours contained therein
the body of evidence in support of the conclusion already reached

this, not in roundabout form, no pussyfooting here, bub,
but directly, like no one I’ve ever met

the soft curves in continuation over hip and haunch where the body bends, folding softly in a series of gestures and suggestions

and somewhere in all this, the differences diminish
the distance is diminished and the gravity,
that which almost inexplicably draws one thing to another
becomes the only thing that matters

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Kill Build

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that’s when we scatter the ashes
and pull on the purse strings
in cinching it a little tighter
finished with a simple granny knot
things run their course, they always do

 

(just let it happen)

 

but there’s never any way to predict the outcome
it can only be coached along, coaxed along
molded when malleable and hardened when necessary

 

(let it happen)

 

the problem, or whatever it is
didn’t just happen, did it
the foundation of it was laid ages ago, wasn’t it
it just silts up after a while until
something must break

 

(it happens)

 

walls, will, and the will of man
all bunched up like a tense fist
you could cut it with a knife
but it probably wouldn’t help
it builds, though –
nonetheless
it builds until it’s palpable
taking on a certain dimension
a weight unto itself

 

(happens)

 

it builds until it spills
and it’s like the cascade can’t stop
and we all give in and watch it crumble
or better yet, watch it burn

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Answerable

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the call came
the call for words
letters forming words
words forming strings of meaning
meaning that has yet to be discovered

this is what happens
the indefinite asserts itself
a drifting of sorts without any intention
intending to, but not quite capable of execution
the intent or execution to make this the here and now

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Square Knot

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500px-Reef_knot.svg

Used with permission. Source Wikipedia.

from opposite directions each line meets, then intersects the other
the tiny checked pattern of the mantle glistening
red-flecked on white in a sea of blue swirling down its length
softly, almost imperceptibly, the kern emits a subtle hiss in adjustment

and around again, now skyward, arching in perfect symmetry towards the others each
from opposite directions, again, each line meets, then intersects the other
the patterns challenge each other in passing and on through the loops
and to end with a quick squeak, the final tightening, wound and rewound

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Sunday Suburbia

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Tonight you fell asleep in my arms.

The rhythm of your breathing
from time to time
finding its synchronicity with mine.

The images of the two entwined
develop and devolve
under the flickering light of the screen opposite
a string of words and images flashing…flooding.

And in that, you under my arm sinking into the elusive oblivion
leading the way as that last bit of gin makes its way past my gullet.

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Which Rich

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sitting here waiting for the drugs to kick in
this means as much now as it always has
but the way is different, the substance of it
another sip to satisfy the simple need,
indeed

to fuel and be fueled, in ritual and ransom
forcing the darkness, as one does, behind
between the two windows, under the lamp
as the intended course of action gets
traction

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Six Boonville Haiku

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    Inspired by Ellery Twining

at six ravens ranch
the towering redwoods sway
gently in the breeze

initial contact
tentative at first but not
unwilling to please

Anderson Valley
bakes in the afternoon sun
just before the fog

and upon the end
glistening and glinting in
the fresh morning light

the road back and forth
through the mountains to the shore
blackberries ripen then burst

sparring not sparing
in the moment deeper still
promises to keep

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April 11, 2009 – 20 Miles Off 101

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this time of year you can hear clearly the rushing intent of the stream even though it can’t be seen

it cuts
every second it’s cutting, moving and cutting, zig-zagging, digging deeper as it goes, a perfect perpetuity

rippling cacophony
the sound of it becomes everything, negates everything, is as if unstoppable, its roaring way made

it swirls
instead of faltering, swells into haystacks defying its state, then calmly into eddies and calmly into pools

the canyon
it’s gnawed sits in gentle acceptance, almost embracing, always approaching but never encroaching

waiting to be washed away

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Powers of Observation

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not plain to the eye as far as you or I can see
but plainly free to be seen
by eyes keen of the hawk
across the field and up the
tree

perception has levels, we quickly conclude
proudly
and out of thin air
deducing

and upon the virtues of specialization
a tangent is unwittingly
embraced
and so forth into
the complexities
we only think we understand
but really don’t

his body bobs smoothly as the branch
of the tree waivers just so
on a breeze implied
but his gaze is fixed

we agree upon a rodent at first, then address specificity
surmising from the grass
dangling from a talon
a mouse

and that’s when, like a reflex, from the tree he dropped
a flash of wings and
his broad tail fanning
out

there was a moment when we were
both aware of
each other’s gasp &
the breath held as the suspense
played out

then back to the perch in a bound
settling in and smoothing feathers before
with three quick snips
consuming our
confirmation

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