deepundergroundpoetry.com
Alfred goes fishing
Alfred out fishing
Alfred, the pianist, who insists he is not my father,
And I went out fishing caught a few when I gutted one of them
We discovered a ring that Alfred said he had given to my mother Olga
In Ankara before the war. It was an expensive ring –
Gold was cheap back then- and it fitted his middle finger.
We didn't feel like eating fish after that, and I gave them to an elderly seal
resting on a sandbank, it lived on what other seals gave it.
When my father Alfred was very old, he gave me a ring to give Olga
my mother that refused to believe I was her son; she had never
seen the ring before and refused to take it, so I gave it back to the sea
and the forgotten tragedy of someone drowning alone; mind it is
rare that someone holds the hand of the ones who drown
Alfred, the pianist, who insists he is not my father,
And I went out fishing caught a few when I gutted one of them
We discovered a ring that Alfred said he had given to my mother Olga
In Ankara before the war. It was an expensive ring –
Gold was cheap back then- and it fitted his middle finger.
We didn't feel like eating fish after that, and I gave them to an elderly seal
resting on a sandbank, it lived on what other seals gave it.
When my father Alfred was very old, he gave me a ring to give Olga
my mother that refused to believe I was her son; she had never
seen the ring before and refused to take it, so I gave it back to the sea
and the forgotten tragedy of someone drowning alone; mind it is
rare that someone holds the hand of the ones who drown
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