The Angelfish Greet Odysseus

Angelfish perturb

the area

around pink gauze,

are the details

of a threaded

diamond string

and its fake

catachrestic applause.

Like that of the angelheaded

beast spreading

its wings, as if to swim

under the light

of the glowworm

and hyacinth,

the fish are oratory

and not.

The pulchritude

of bombazine

on a shattering

geoidal mid-afternoon,

dribbling from

sea rock to splint,

the wing tips

are hardly bleak

accoutrements,

their own swinging

by the bay of a chest

and a previous rock.

Here we are stranded,

pelagic with clot,

and the fish

burble with oratory

and I kind of like them

a lot.