Tuesday, May 5, 2009
He couldn't hide anymore,
so went fishing for masks.
Caught a maskfish,
held it against his body
and wore the costume
closer than his wife.
He ceased blowing horns, too
and beating steel pan
and calling out with a voice unfamiliar to him
inside of dry, judgmental rooms.
He became a maskfisherman
and found ways of obscuring from the world
what he believed to be truths about his life.
He fished for these veils
covered his face with corals
entombed his body inside of seaweed and nets
evacuated wife and sun for the company of the moon.
He took down the moon, too,
slapped the glare off its arrogant face
and positioned it over his own.
In the morning the world woke up in darkness
beneath the sea, tribes of maskfish
extinguished their lights.
stalked all of the world's river banks
unmasked many he found
searching for candles and suns,
on totems he carried
the carcass of their illusions
costumed them in breeze.
by Tiffany Osedra Miller