r-kv-r-y
spring/summer 2005




poetry by lissa warren
LIVEBEARERS

My guppy got so pregnant it died,
but the razor blade saved the babies.

I was ten, and did the slitting,
then spread her sides and shook.
They fell from her like marbles,
fan-finned and poached-egg eyed.

I watched their gills expand,
and so forgot the mother,
which I suppose all daughters do
until they too are gutted.
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