Fish Heads

Slimy thoughts packed like sardines
Writhe and wriggle in my head
Waiting for the moment
The tin can closes
And leaves them to fester
In the brine
As their thin scales
Dissolve into nothingness
And bulging, dead eyes
Gaze into the darkness
Of the universe
And cry salty tears
As it stares back
With pure indifference,
Before twisting off the pull tab
With a metallic scream,
Thus ending my potential
For freshness.
Editor: Rockebah Charles-Stewart









