there is mercury in the water
says the sunday paper
and I try to understand how this could be
mercury, I know, makes you mad
you sling teapots and saucers about wonderland
wearing clothing with the price tag
prominently and uncouthly displayed
but there is mercury in the water now
I read across my bowl of kix
as Hobbes philosophizes
about the damage man has wrought
on the world of tigers
there is mercury in the water
and I imagine the mirror surface of the swimming pool
as seen from the tiled bottom
ten feet below
the mercury in the water
would be as this world inverted
flowing lazily along the stony bottom
to the sea
and the salmon that swim against the flow
admire their fins and spots
their athletic leaps and landings
I cannot eat the fish more than once a month
the paper tells me
there is mercury in the fish too
which, I think, is stating the obvious
because every fish that I ever caught
was silver and mad
