hatchery hymnal

sliced mouth to tail
the wild salmon, the mother, contains
40,000 eggs

they spill out, perfect as
honeycomb
hauled by the bucketful
…….upriver
to where an artificial father will
guide them into the stream of deliverance

give it a month in the lab. they will come
……to life or something like it

give it an instant, in the pens. they will
……know themselves dead
………….by the saltlessness

they grow, malformed and blind,
…….teeming for the market’s soft mouth
somewhere klamath blackberries endure
somewhere, yurok schoolchildren return
…….the mother salmon to the river, so that at least           if only in death
…………she can be a rot that is of service

here we talk of saving the rivers
and close our eyes when we bite down
…….on the flesh

category is: kraken

the woman at the bottom of the well
anointed me, filthy-lipped

told me nightmares are oaths too
and need keeping

……………………………………………(you see, I am trying to be honest
……………………………………………………..about this infection
……………………………………………………………..of mine.)

the brochures said I’d be unrecognizable but
I am worse than that, I am
monstrously
familiar
when the blight erupts
……………………………..(your tongue knows my name. say it. take the money.)

maybe this is just an excuse
for the extant hunger
my seeping wet desperation
a way to know one thing,
at least, for certain

………………………..(maybe more than just demons have to make their own light)

but lure me with brighter wounds
and I will climb my palms prayer-bloody
haul myself from the salted earth

…………to stay alive

…………to wreck your sails

……………………………………………………………………(to eat,
…………………………………………………………………..after all)

____

Brianna Cunliffe is an environmental justice activist and storyteller. As a queer woman who grew up on a disintegrating Carolina coastline, her work explores fiercely loving the fragile places we call home. Their work appears in Reckoning Magazine, Vagabond City, Lucent Dreaming, Storm Cellar, Claw and Blossom, and more.