Leaving Rhode Island: The Fish

I clean my hands in the river

See the fish flopping on the shore

Wants to get back in

Yeah, I know

Don’t I know it

You belong somewhere

And somebody comes along

And takes you out

Puts you down somewhere else

Somewhere you can’t breathe

Where you can’t catch your breath

I took my clothes off

Left them on the shore

I clean my hands

I clean my face

I want to drink the water

But I got a feeling it’s a bad idea

Water, water everywhere

And all of it tastes like shit

Be a dumb move

Drinking the same water

You’re washing up with, right?

I look over at the fish

Still flopping

If he’s still alive when I’m done washing up

I’ll put him back in the river

If you cling to your old life that hard for that long

You deserve to get it back

Otherwise, you better grow lungs

Like the rest of us

I look up and tell myself it’s the same sky

Even in Rhode Island

Same as Kentucky, no different

Probably not as blue, but oh well, right?

Oh well

I finish washing up

And make my way to the shore

To the fish

Half-rooting for him to be dead

So I can have some dinner

And half-wanting him to be alive

So I’ll know it’s possible

To be gone for that long

And still make it