| The Mermaid of Tree Branches |
| I cut off tree branches today with a hacksaw. I stacked them like firewood under the still attached appendages of the pear tree. All the time I held that saw I thought about Texas. I thought about the stage. Spotlights, poetry, and politics. Its the opportunity for escape. We all need escape, and that is exactly what performance is. The world can watch me do it. Watch my eyes glaze over and disappear under a blanket of talent. I say so. There is no place to go but away. I remember feeling so low that I slipped on the sides of the valley. I was deep sea, and an angler fish chasing my own bait. My eyes had bulged to about that point, and scavenging was as good as it got. Here I am. I am new and silver. I am aware of freaks and being one. Covered in scuba gear, I dare to breathe. I will find the brown rusted chest containing the worlds largest diamond. What went down with the Lusitanian can come up in a single person submergible. I will pilot the underwater robot myself. Connected through two claws of precision. I am scouring. A bottom feeder perhaps, but a damn good one. All the creatures of the sea are sacred, aren�t they? We can�t all be mermaids and barracudas. Not even the sharks are guaranteed a meal. I think that I know that. A sliver of silver eludes to treasure. I dream of it. Golden and infinite. The big find. The big one. The end. Success is mediocre compared to Atlantis. Pinstripe towers with platinum crowns are waiting somewhere. I will have to conquer many monsters. Serpents that are long enough to choke the world. For now, they coil and wait. They wait in circular slithers. Green and fiery, even underwater. I am committed to supporting the island. I will cool the lava to make my own paradise. An archipelago of bliss. Each one an earth step for a crafted god. Under the rule of a magic trident. I will challenge Poseidon. If I win, I will spring for jackknives for every tuna in the ocean. A simple tool to escape an old net. It�s the least I can do, considering a big-eye tuna taught me to swim. I owe my belly to that devoured fish. Oh, only to find it�s innocent fishbones in an alley. I freed them from the tomcat, and gave it a proper Viking funeral. Flames, water, and salt are not just a restaurant theme. This is burial ground information. This is a secret location. The treasure, the tuna, and I are all waiting to be mermaids. The diamond, the barracuda, and the isle of paradise are all waiting for eyes. If you see them don�t forget to wave. And not in an ocean way, if you know what I mean. You do. Deep within the chorus of the shanty you insist upon singing lies a bitter pirate. One who threw a hook on a rope to pull in every bit of magic from the current. A scourge of all scourge. Brine and sea urchins even curse this fiend. This seadog slaughters for sport. He tortures for a tale to tell. Thank goodness I cut those tree branches myself, Because he would disarm it one splinter at a time. Savoring gore and sap the all the while. His sword is a rusted symbol of carnage. This is a warning of war. In a cave that fills completely when the tide comes in, I will be waiting. The barracuda is working for me now, and I have shackles and lead on my side. Give me my diamond. Allow me my island. This song has been sung with a cut throat. I�ll gurgle the story if I must. I�ll serenade in blood until the ocean turns to dust. Me, the mermaid of tree branches. - Lyska |
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