Year of writing 221. The fish

8/9/12

There is a fish on the television
it lives in the deepest part of the ocean
in the ghost-dark water it hangs
suspended like a grotesque ornament
Its teeth are clear needles, its eyes
dull plates, useless in this place

My daughter stares, mouth agape
she asks what kind of monster
this thing is, flinches when I tell her
it's real, then crawls up in my lap
she whispers, looking straight ahead
"is that fish ugly, daddy?"

"I think some people would say so,"
I reply, "but it doesn't matter, he's
always in the dark anyway."
This girl of four tilts her head toward
mine, our faces chin to forehead,
"I want it to be happy in the light too,"
she says, "I want ugly to be gone."