Fish Girl

There was a fish on the sidewalk. 

“Hey!  Hey!  I like your sunglasses,” she said.

 She was flopping alongside of me.   

“You snuck up on me there.”

The sun slid a rainbow up to her pouting lips. 

“What’s your name?”

A heave:  “Mary.”

Mary was covered in flies.

“Where are you going Mary?”

“This way.” 

“Well come on then.”

“Where are you from?” I asked.

 “Tennessee.  Thirty miles south of Chattanooga.”           

“So that’s eastern Tennessee.” 

She stopped and looked very impressed.

“Baby,” she said.

I thought I saw a smile, the rainbows around her gills switching poles.

 “Well, I live right up here by Morocco Street. Do you know where that is?”

“I do. I’m staying there with some friends.”

“What a coincidence. What are you doing in town?”

“I just got a job at Babes’ Cabaret.”

“So you’re going to be a stripper?”

“I start tomorrow night. You should be my # 1.”

“OK,” I said. “Take me home with you?”

“Sure thing,” she said. “Just pick me up.”

I put my hand around her

and she felt like old sandwich meat.

"Hm, maybe if I..."

Then I caught my finger on a spine.
"Ouch!"

"Sorry." 

I tried my hand like a spatula

and one of her scales peeled off into my hand.

She was stuck to the pavement.

I didn’t want to go home with her anymore.

“Just wondering," she asked,
"do you have water or anything at your house?”

I looked down the street for the bus.

“Uhm. What they don’t have a fish bowl where you live? Or at least a cup of water?”

“No, they just say they love me.”

“Well that’s something. Hey, you want some beer?”  

I had a half a can of beer

and I tilted it toward the button eye

 and the sinewy mouth, which snapped open.

“That was good,” she said. “Hey, wait! Where are you going?”

“Five blocks this way, and two that way.”

“Oh, bye,” she said and waved her fin

sadly like a fan.

I put my hands on my hips
and turned toward the street.

The light was baking the shade,

just beating it up.

I saw legs moving from the bottoms of trellised porches.

The cats were starting to move.

“Good luck Mary,” I said.