north of batavia, south of heaven
i saw a lot of death.start at the coffee stall
that sold breakfast
of dark brown broth
in a pan
chicken necks
yellow tumeric-y skeletons
of fish
all over rice.
only the rice was alive
steaming like the garbage dump
next to us.
the men ate quickly
'drink! give me drink!'
a man in green AP boots shouted.
he didn't have time to eat.
another man put a chicken neck in his mouth
kept talking to his friend
and little pieces of bone
fell from his mouth
to the wet black asphalt.
everything stank of rotten fish
the sleeves of my tees
the coffee in dirty glasses
the sky.
no time for table manners.
then we got on the boat
at the back we looked some more at the blue sky
reflecting the blue paint of the toilet door
a square hole really
it too painted blue around the edges
to frame the black water underneath
we saw fish
floating
light as crisps
belly-up
near the surface
it's funny
we live to stay afloat
then we die
then our bodies float
then we didn't have to try.
but tell that to the fish
they spent their whole lives trying to go
under the radar
and now they're dead
no one wants them.
and all this just for starters
one clear morning
at the old fish auction
north of batavia.
Batavia
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