Mussel Memory
by Bill Yarrow
Andreas Cappelanus taught that the word
“love” comes from the word meaning
“to fish.” I used to fish off a bridge
on the Eastern Shore. There's a picture
of me on a rampart holding a flounder.
My hair is disheveled and my chest
is puffed. I'm holding the flat fish
by the tail and motioning to my cousin
who was to die before his daughter
turned two. I had plans that night
to borrow a towel and lie down under
the pier with this blowzy Towson girl
but I didn't know she had sunburned shins
“love” comes from the word meaning
“to fish.” I used to fish off a bridge
on the Eastern Shore. There's a picture
of me on a rampart holding a flounder.
My hair is disheveled and my chest
is puffed. I'm holding the flat fish
by the tail and motioning to my cousin
who was to die before his daughter
turned two. I had plans that night
to borrow a towel and lie down under
the pier with this blowzy Towson girl
but I didn't know she had sunburned shins
so, as Andreas advised, I let her off the hook.
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Author's Note
A version of this poem appeared as part of a 2010 e-book entitled "Wound Jewelry" published by new aesthetic.
The poem appears in Pointed Sentences (BlazeVOX, 2012).
Other stories by Bill Yarrow
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An amazing piece, Bill. To begin with Capellanus - wow. Just great how the imagery unfolds.
Youv'e been missed. Glad you're back.
Yes! Bill, you have been missed, and HERE is why --
Your work is stunning.
The world you let out with "I used to fish" and we're there, with the hair and the fish and the cousin taken too soon and that blowzy (what a great word, the assonance there) all that heartache and longing reeled in at the end.
Couuldn't agree more. Welcome back! *
Yes, Bill, welcome back! What a stunning take on the reality of love. *
There's so much story here! Vivid and simply told.
Welcome back ... and what a great image here, story, theme, metaphors like mirrors.
You had me from line one.
fave
What an encompassing lyric, how many species of time you reel in here: the "used to" the " am holding" the cousin who "was to die" and the time of his daughter turning two... this in itself seems a wonder, and all the disparate times bound together in the single word. A stunning piece.
Whatever happened to the Towson girl? I've always wondered. Love the narrator with the noble spirit! *
Very good. Artfully done. Feeling both compact and expansive at once.
Loved the tone of this. Beautifully told. So much in this.
Faved.
I felt that the younger you was proud of a catch he didn't know he had. Your poem held all kinds of love in that one moment of capture - romantic, family, friends, sexual. * So very rich, Bill.
I am reminded of a line from the Willie Dixon/Howlin' Wolf song "Wang Dang Doodle": "When the fish scent fills the air . . ."
Gosh, Bill, I just love this, not only because of the familiar Eastern shore and Towson references which take me home, just for a moment (even if I never fantasized about a Towson girl, exactly,but you get the idea)... but also because the words are so effortless and filled with weightiness of life and death and so many things in between. You do that so well. Your poems get me every single time. So glad I found one tonite.
*
Just marvelous - love the sense of longing & place.
*!
"Andreas Cappelanus taught that the word
“love” comes from the word meaning
“to fish.”
Wow, what an opening. I like the way you enter and leave this poem. With love.
*
Glad you're back Bill. And what a great piece. Missed your writing.
I love the beginning of this!