The goldfish died. Eric bought an eel <br />which mulls by day or haunts the galleon-wreck <br />and slips by night in scaleless dishabille <br />to trace lemniscates over a gravel bed. <br />He's called the eel Kitty - I know, it's weird! <br />Her eyes are small, and fogged like crystal balls <br />or cloudy fish-eggs. Maybe she's a seer? <br />Her pupils twitch whenever I caterwaul. <br />I'd like to dip my paw; only to touch <br />her dimpled skin, with sheathed claws. I ate <br />the goldfish. Eric's grinning, thinking - Just <br />you try Pagan, but I'm not dumb; the bait's <br />athrum. She's friendly though, platonic-eyed. <br />I'd like to prick her eye to see inside.<br /><br />Diane Hine<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/electric-eel-sonnet/
