Pisces
by Jayne Pupek

The sea is spare without horses.
Anemones weep milky tears.
I hear bells when I spit into my hands,
but forget if this is contagious.

There is no reason to be angry
or suppress the dream curled
in your ear and festering.
Balloons float in the belly of a fish.
A bird wouldn't understand,
nor would your father,
textbook in his hand.

If you keep explaining the wrong answers,
you'll soon believe them yourself.
I'm collecting shells for the apocalypse
for lack of any better ideas.
In my brother's old Grit papers,
seahorses are for sale.

Biography

Jayne Pupek holds an MA in Psychology and lives near Richmond, VA. Her fiction and poetry have appeared in numerous online and print publications, including 2River, Wicked Alice, 3am, Ghoti, Dead Mule, and others. Primitive, her chapbook of poetry, is available from Pudding House Press. Jayne's first novel is scheduled for release Spring, 2006 by Algonquin at Chapel Hill.

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