I know I know. I'm shitty at updated, but I don't think I got a wide enough reader base for anyone to notice. I'll be better about it this week. I've got a lot I've been dealing with lately so I've been sort of scatter brained. Just starting to get everything settled to put some thoughts together into a blog.
In the meantime, here is my first draft of a poem I've been working on. I say first draft, because I tend to write something ignore it for some time then go back to it later to cut it all up and make it smoother. I never know how much editing will actually be done to it until after it happens.
The Fish Tank Diver
The life of a plastic fish tank diver
is stationary and boring.
He stands guard over a treasure chest
filled with fools gold and bubbles.
His gaze is fixed,
focused on point beyond the glass.
That was where he saw her.
Leaning close to the glass to feed the fish.
She was an air breather,
a dry-land girl.
She was beautiful,
give up your treasure and learn to dry out beautiful,
hold your breath to keep from scaring her away beautiful,
wish you could jump start your plastic guts and run away with her beautiful,
compelled to tell her nothing but the truth beautiful.
Since Welsh is the only language
that can be spoken under water
he confessed with it:
“wrth eu bodd”
“fy nghariad yn unig”
As his oxygenation broke the surface
she turned and leaned into his gaze
tapping the glass to say hello.
It was the first time
he’d felt the click clack of
his plastic heart beat.
