A FISH STORY FOR ARIEL

The sprat's a kind of herring,

it seems, Clupea sprattus,

ichthyologically speaking.

We saw it neatly canned

in the grocery store,thousands

of miles from its proper shores,

a (perhaps) delicious tidbit,

I'm sure, but we shall never

know.

We had to rush to catch

a bus and left the

Clupea sprattus

on the shelf.

If in future we should

decide to dine on this

Latvian delight, let us do

remember to bring a can opener

and not be in haste for

the bus.

Fish Story for Ariel10/31/955/30/95 úyou closed your eyes and

lifted your head, you told me:

"Kiss me."

Ah, long journey into your

breath, the sacred breath of the

goddess, animating you, breathing

into me a new language,

reshaping my syntax and

vocabulary into sensations, hearing or

tasting your lips (I know

not which) as one would savor

the sweetness of a

special fruit, lingering a moment

longer before eating it.

VIII

A siren broke our trance.

Even in this