Alex Sigston - Dead Fish

I am on my own.
A single dead fish
Floating on a pool
As thick as blood and
As tense as kettle-drum
Skin.

We are all images
Of the same reality.
But in reality,
There is no such thing.

A distant fading of fact to
An unlucky fallen fly
In the jelly mix.

I have myself for company.

The futile dialogue.

The pointless discussion.

We seem to come to the
Same conclusions. We are
Great mates - volumes in common.

My skull is my prison bars
Ivory and pale and holding back
The breakout by the ties of
Post-Enlightenment nonsense.

White noise screams in my ears
Like Houdini.

Alex Sigston

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dead-fish/