The towers we passed had untroubled walls
and speakers, huge like open duckbills crying.
My dad told me a good story about them,
better even than morthbrood or triffids.
As I slept the car became
a train throttling
through a city lit with fish globes
fish hanging belly up
on the sides of buildings, as if sprouted there,
like ingrown hairs.
A city of fish with hatchet mouths,
fish pricking out their orange and terrible roe.
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