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Poems

Selected Poems (1935)

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 drlves 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.
Repeatod
evidence has proved that it can live
on what can not revive
its youth. The sea grovvs old in it.


The Fish.  From Selected Poems (1935)