fens claimant

her strength seeps through newly installed calm
she calls “ohm” to distinguish tuber from field—
her namesake breaking into a smokestack
obscure

he’s a pianist with psychological funds pitting
an inconvenienced perch against the hook—
no fish more foul in his mind but the forlorn
mermaid in the fens

the maid does not sing for either one of them
busy fending off poseidon’s sweaty mitts—
she’s slightly claustrophobic & smokestacks
nor pianists her concern

there is one pivotal element in this gordian knot
none of this matters—there is no meaning here—
but the one you
project

What I’m Reading:

“… right or wrong, you will think what you need to think so that you can get by. So find some reason here.”

—Ottessa Moshfegh / Lapvona