I have fish swimming

through my vein's

Parana eating my Brain

 

As I walk across parquet flooring

 

My socks are not silk

My shoes are not hand made

 

My hair grows in its own time

 

A gold fish swims past

my sight I feel the flick

of its fan tail on

the back of my eye ball

 

Small teeth nibble my

cerebal cortex

 

My jeans are not as expensive as Evisu

but not as cheap as I should afford

 

My pants are Marks and Spencers

Yet my toes feel the grass

all the same

 

As the twist of eels

settle in my intestines

 

Streams of Roe fall out from

my nose

 

My hands are Salmon fins

 

The Cravats I wear

were given to me

in a plastic bag by

a black haired Spanish

girl born in Camden

 

My spine erupts with

slashing Manteray tails

as my skin turns

to scales

 

I wear deadmans jackets

with old blood stains

on the cuffs

 

As my legs give way

to octopus suckers

and I grab hold of

a rock

 

O Posseiden am I

a man of many

fish, sea-life soup

on a Chinese table

 

Eaten by somebody

in a Soho noodle

bar

 

My fears as salty

miso tears.