Go Fish

We drown, fishes dependent
On the fresh crisp air
Of a land we were never meant to set fin upon
Our dead bodies riding
The waves unloving
The currents unhalting
Unceremonious tossing
No burial for us, we are graves in motion
Plucked from dignity
Strickened

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s