anglerfish

A monkfish on the bottom of an aquarium tank

Lies camoflagued on the gravel,

It could be looking at the glass screen

That separates her from the world

And keeps her alive

Though I doubt that

She knows that.

The screen that

I stare at every day

Has shown me what a monkfish is,

What it looks like,

What it does

And that anglerfish is

Its other name.

Now I know how

It can be caught and cut,

And sliced and iced.

Some say that

Its flesh tastes nice.

And that’s not all

That my screen lets me see,

I can see sea, seals,

Seagulls, sealions, sealice,

And long muscular fighting conger eels,

Hooked and hauled up on lines,

From sunken wrecks.

I don’t know

If this tidal flow

Of maritime information

Keeps me as supine

As the anglerfish

Lying on the bottom of my tank

Staring at the screen

But I can tell you this,

My false consciousness

Is full of fish.