in the tin, betrayers (I call them fish)

by Emily O’Neill

pack them in water / bottlenosed
in the nets I am / killing
what excess / I drown in

glut of used / to loves used to
ladle / clarified butter & call
its fat moonlight / I’m laughing

like I do / at the mattress store
where the seller / talks around
my ass / as a problem for sleep

the pressure map / what heat gets
wicked / do we need pillows / frame
& warranty / no one here but us

see the outline / of what still
hooks into my bed / disconnect
at the stomach / how you float

face down / asleep / a raft
I sit on whichever side
& blot out the sea

at home / I sift through
what past is too fixed
to burn / tin of strangers

I once held / thrashing
in my hands / when dragging
a knife / tail to head / the scales

fly as light / to the floor / I loved
them / they spoiled / memory
sealed / key cutting tape

I counted / the whole shoal / a school
of what shone / packed in water
dissolving the bones