top of page

Changing Stations

From the book of poetry 'Animal Souls' by Michael Fisher

I reflect and I detect

A strange, strange smell

Familiar fragrances, bordering on vagrancies

But somewhat hard to tell

Whether it is sour or sweet

Damn these senses one to six

They love to play dirty tricks

Shall I be so kind

If I was so inclined

To say so, to lay so

Firm and taut

My values down

My image bound in chains

The smell that seemed so strange

Is now singing in the round

The time is thought for change

I reflect

And now we are alone

And isn't that what we wanted?

Isn't that the way it started?

Throwing stones in the water

Growing bones in our homes

Creaking doors and dusty drafts

And eating dirt (shit) just for laughs

Enough for one night

I feel like a man on a wheel

In fate healing flight

Gone are stations dear to me

Gone, the institutions I felt closing in on me

I reflect

I am in a sector of life

My body is straight but it lies

It's like growing bones out of homes

And seeing without light

I detect

bottom of page