Going Off the Deep End into Confectionery
We’re the anemones guarding
the gates of infinity,
the boats squidding in the bay.
In the flooded fish market,
dead fish, live fish—who took you
to the Tuileries for a rose-
scented swim? Turn the world
& the page is pink.
Frond-fond & pond-proud,
we sugar the obstacle dark.
“Going Off the Deep End into Confectionery” is reprinted from Sad Little Breathing Machine (Graywolf, 2004).