fisch kitti bisch

a fish fishing it all
into hanging from hooks
sinking till ever other
voices wake us on sheets lined
with silver suits a familiar
hinging over the cast out
to see an amorphous pull
celestial, an incestual relation
the peak bleeds into the valley
over crested—pushed from, pushed till

moments coalesce in thoughts that break
across planes of conscious to recede
well up from memory changed
in shape, shifted in form, both
inside and out of context inscribed
beside inscription. The script conscripts
thought's movement concretely.