May Be Icky

Sometimes I feel like
Poecilia Sphenops, the Common
Molly, swimming darkness
Imprisoned in an aquarium,
Time-limited, inside is mine.
For moments hold blessings,
Horrors without regard for
My delicate frame, constrained,
The world around me seeks bones
And ick may infect at any time.
Ebony scales blighted white
Only hours left in which to fight,
A lifetime passes, blistering speed,
Still, I am often blinded to its fleeting
Until I see its work in others, completed.
Always swimming, set
To bear whatever comes of day,
Giving my utmost to stay
In the mix, put into play,
Belly up is not, shall not be
What I choose as mine, my way,
I search the inside for an out
And I am making myself to be
Better, more fantastic than ick.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan


Process Note: Out of nowhere, the idea of writing a story about mollies and ick came to me earlier when I was singing. I started listening to the album, Black Star by David Bowie, which is indescribable. I wrote the poem in my journal and added to it on the computer. I did not have a picture of a Molly, been a many a long year since I have maintained an aquarium.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

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