Sunday, November 15, 2020

The Fish

Listen to:

The Fish (1:42)

by Marianne Moore 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Marianne Moore was born this day in 1887 in Kirkwood, Missouri

The Fish

wade
through black jade.
   Of the crow-blue mussel-shells, one keeps
   adjusting the ash-heaps;
      opening and shutting itself like

an
injured fan.
   The barnacles which encrust the side
   of the wave, cannot hide
      there for the submerged shafts of the

sun,
split like spun
   glass, move themselves with spotlight swiftness
   into the crevices —
      in and out, illuminating

the
turquoise sea
   of bodies. The water drives a wedge
   of iron through the iron edge
      of the cliff; whereupon the stars,

pink
rice-grains, ink-
   bespattered jelly-fish, crabs like green
   lilies, and submarine
      toadstools, slide each on the other.

All
external
   marks of abuse are present on this
   defiant edifice —
      all the physical features of
ac-
cident — lack
   of cornice, dynamite grooves, burns, and 
   hatchet strokes, these things stand
      out on it; the chasm-side is
dead.
Repeated
   evidence has proved that it can live
   on what can not revive
      its youth. The sea grows old in it.