Collapsing In On Itself 1997

             Collapsing In On Itself
A week-dead pike on local stone wall,

Placed there or dropped by a gull

And ignored; once fresh and full

Getting meager and dull,

It’s almost the same

As the day that it came,

But the entrails have started to go.

(Are they ‘entrails’? I really don’t know.)

Of course it has innards: the roe and the gall,

A liver – I guess – and a stomach.

I think it’s a pike. It may be a perch. It isn’t a haddock.

The thing that’s essential, its cardinal what-nessIs something that shows when I pass it:

Everything rotten, or heading that way,

Falls in on itself in its ‘rot’-ness.

 

©

 

 

Collapsing In On Itself 97.8.18Circling Round Nature; Birth, Death & In Between; Nature Of & In Reality; Swedish Book;

Arlene Corwin

 

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