One dark night
I hang a dried porcupine fish on the ceiling,
And with a nylon thread, in the dark, it looks like it is having a nice swim in the air.
I didn’t mind it has taken life, and so
When friend Sammy drops by,
He calls it art.
Inside me, it is what I call myself, an air porcupine; I love the spines all over me,
So no one touches me, and I would hurt everyone near me,
I call it my life, what does Sammy know anyway, except a claim for art,
One dark night, the porcupine fish got carried about his swim
And plunged into my open mouth and clogged my heart, I struggled for breath
From then on the nightmare did not stop…. life moves on with the porcupine fish.
How would Sammy know that art has coarsely etched life? The spines all over me,
The porcupine swimming in my belly, my chest congested, my tongue tied, my teeth gritting, my heart bleeding in a hundred pains with a hundred wounds.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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