Holding a rod
at Happy Jack’s Fish Farm, in Super-8.
Dozens of disneyland families circling
swiped water rerouted over swiped land,
a marigold shuffling of planted easter eggs and
transplanted palm trees.
Daddy helps me drop and instantly
lift one out into a bucket.

Writing, chasing a stocked tank,
the hyperamerican superabundance of fish,
a silicone percentage of wins on a pay-to-prey Sunday,
slimecoated with algae of shame,

my memory, a line

— Brian Felsen, author of Female Figure (Possibly Venus)

T.S. Poetry

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