Sam Sax
for danez
the fisherman sits
at the edge of a new river.
lets his toes trouble the water,
paddles electrocuting the night.
the night is a homecoming,
is an opening, is a harvest.
he flings his fish up into the dark
one after the other as they’re cut from the water.
behind him the city’s spires rise toward heaven
breathing exit signs. each red beacon a trapdoor
splitting the sky’s black garment.
he baits his hooks with homophones, cartilage, pheromones.
his hooks, telephones, specula, seraphim.
each hook an adrenal needle plunged into the heart
the fisherman lowers his line into the dark
hums the song that once saved your life
feels something bite below the water
and pulls up boy,
after boy,
after boy,
after boy,
after boy,
after boy,
after boy,
after boy,
after boy,
after boy,
after boy,
after boy,
after boy,
after boy,
after boy,
after boy,
after boy,
after boy,
after boy,