Drunk Fish
I read today that our fish are drunk;
they cannot swim in a straight line.
Instead they flounder, highly sedated
in the milky depths of abyss.
They are drowning in animal faeces,
swimming in a cesspool, waiting
for the hunger to subside. Aimless drifters,
we watch them swim on in miserable guts.
Suck on water, nibble the bone.
Careful not to swallow the dirty mist.
Once golden; a luminous skin
now grey and almost transparent.
Our botanical garden is dying,
beneath the velvet gauze.
Algae is tripping on acid
and won’t be back for some time.
Toothpick Lullaby
My mouth is an ancient cave
Decayed
Beware these teeth are brittle
Tread with caution
The receding gums
are my fault
I brush too hard
and enjoy pain inducing activity
My left molar drops
like a sugar lump bomb
into blue china
It triggers a tea-quake
For a second
I admire its whiteness
Swimming in the muddy water
bobbing about like a buoy.
by Natalie Claire Baker