Fish Market Wedding

sometimes i think about marrying a woman just to piss off my mother. / i’ll wear a scarlet leather dress & let vengeance trail my back like a veil / dance down the fish market / as ice blocks & raw dead things clap for us from either side. / when the oyster merchant / pronounces us / woman & woman / i’ll swim through her mouth / pierce pearls through her spine. / the ceremony will take place in the crisp moments / between yesterday & today / when the world becomes soft / & fishermen drown their boats / & merchants bathe in red tubs. / golden nooses / of squid lights illuminate the aisle / as i walk down / stepping over dead fish with no eyes & gaping mouths / hungry / for something it does not want. / i recognize him from somewhere. / yes / from my plate / when mother used to cook mackerels. / she picked out the eyeballs to lay on my tongue / watched me swallow / as she sucked on the skeleton. / the greatest kind of love / she said / was sacrifice. / at my fish market wedding / i will wade into the sea / & catch a fish with my naked hands / & drop the squirming piece of life / into my mother’s empty mouth.