Very satisfying, very real, very fine, Andrew!
On Sun, Dec 28, 2008 at 5:58 PM, andrew burke <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> The river. Dogs swim in it, fish piss in it. It washes its dead up on the
> banks. The banks ignore it. The river is our destination through flaking
> trees and salty flowers, across riverside roads and sign-posted paths with
> people celebrating the invention of the wheel. Out of the river a bird
> sticks its black arse, a Rabelaisian greeting, and I half expect a cartoon
> balloon to belch into the air, saying, 'Fuck off, will ya, I'm trying to
> fish here!' I look down and at my feet, at my dog's front paws, there lies
> a
> complete river bream. It seems healthy enough, but if so why is it dead
> here, washed up in dirty yellow sand? There's not a mark on it, so I look
> around for other fish, thinking it might be some poisonous algae or such
> that has caused many fish death. No: just one stark fish, glistening in the
> sunlight, its silver scales shining. My dog is not interested; one sniff
> and
> into the river for a swim. I call her back but there is no stopping her and
> I trust her instincts to judge fresh water from foul. Reeds grow green and
> straight, the cormorant appears again, with its knowing look. The river
> seems healthy enough. Here again, today, two pelicans do their strange
> ritual: one swims up river, close to our bank, while the other swims down
> river by the far bank, the bank with the restaurant nesting on its jetty.
> Like pedestrians walking both sides of a suburban road in different
> directions. My dog comes to shore and does her shake dance. 'Go, girl, go!'
> I say to her, half laughing, wet dog taking me out of my questioning mind,
> and we both turn for the path home, leaving the dead bream for birds to
> peck, the pelicans to come to their conclusion, and the cormorant to his
> fishing.
>
>
> All comments welcome.
>
>
> Andrew
> http://hispirits.blogspot.com/
>
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