Glass Poetry Press

Volume Three Issue One

Paul Handley

Alaska Fish Boat

Light at night is the only sightseeing sight I see besides water that is en route to the Indian Ocean with the ideal guidance system of currents, eddies, tidal pools, arctic and tropical storms. My title is grader based upon college enrollment. Salmon roe is the Japanese rage here, back in the early nineties when respected scholars thought a pax japana was upon us, which meant they were traitors and not just taking a flyer. We were a communal community that shared colds, as if we were playing a mass game of spin the bottle, and not working eighteen hours a day. We began to hate the flavor of salmon together. The four women on board started to look extremely attractive, or good depending on their starting point. We began to hate the very likeable Tommy Lee Jones in The Fugitive, which seemed to play on a loop. We wanted the fish to stop their journey. We began to implode together. Concerned about malicious gossip, a friend told me that in one year no one here would remember what I looked like.