GH O TI

f i sh

Issue No. 1

VIEWING CASABLANCA IN ARKADELPHIA, ARKANSAS

It's 2 a.m.
Fog permeates Casablanca
as fog floats
above the Ouachita,
the river this town lies ragtag along.
Those sheeny creatures on the screen are dead,
the town at this hour is dead,
I feel the vapor of that river rise
to touch my feet.
O Ingrid, Humphrey, Sydney, Paul,
shadows on the banks of my life,
I point the remote
and kill you all.
Now the early morning train
clangoring through Arkadelphia.
I stumble toward my coat and my valise.
I must be gone
before the Germans,
the closed borders,
the informant sun.

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