salmon run (art and poem)

praying to be saved whilst writhing by the riverside,

gutting myself jumping into gaping jaws like nature’s instincts will me. 

if i’m ill with lethargy forgive me,

im decaying with the rush of entropy.

to dream of a riverbed lined with tombs,

desperate writhing for lives yet to come. 

survival is what’s left of flesh and bone

picked at by the art of inevitability.

in the winter a tender rebirth,

that’s all we’re hoping for.