Death By Catfish

Posted on January 11, 2013 by reginaholt

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pathology report on a death,
Something is not right.
Pain where there was none yesterday.
Hurry catch those!

Hundreds swim at the bottom in clusters,
where they are going matters little,
I’m hungry!

Round them up junior,
I’ll help you,
never mind untraditional kind,
you take the port,
I have starboard.

A fete of a feast on tender meat,
but watch for these spines discovered,
They must be positioned just so,
watch me junior, one gulp.
Now it’s your turn,
Eat to your heart’s content.

Slow over time, a uncomfortable feeling
It nags in night’s resting time,
abates with first dawn.
Next day is the same,
And the next and the next.
Spines bury themselves,
Not where they belong,
Critical position,
bleeding in the depths,
not a drop in sight.

One day, one moment the nag turns darker,
Pain increases with each blowhole breath.
This is it junior, hope you paid attention.
The baton is yours, don’t waste it,
Live and love in the present moment.
Significant point in time.

 

*Written before COVID…

~Regina