The Anchovy of Melancholy
In my vision along the bookshelf
Anchovy becomes Anatomy
of Melancholy
where Burton accuses fish of slimy nutrients
leading to excessive black bile,
as does most everything the mind eats.
The simple anatomy of an anchovy
differs from other fish where the snout
overhangs a lower jaw which, opening
for plankton, gapes wider
than the entire fish
under black eyes like holes.
The shape is as streamlined as a fountain pen
and, you know, as slippery as a fish
and your knowledge of self,
reflecting silver, then a dubious
blue-green in a graceful turn,
and finally a distant black dot.
An anchovy is never alone,
its thousands pressed together for oil
or paste beaten into dressing.
Even the salty grey-brown strip on your pizza
lies with the many.
And when attacked by shark or pelican
they’re a roiling ball of fish caught
in the frenzy of togetherness
of a political rally, a mega-church
where everyone screams away
the melancholy burden of self.
Sherry Mossafer Rind is the author of six collections of poetry. She has received grants
and awards from Anhinga Press, the Seattle and King County Arts Commissions,
National Endowment for the Arts, and Artist Trust. Her most recent books are Between
States of Matter, Poetry Box Select, 2020, and The Store-House of Wonder and
Astonishment, winner of an Eyelands International award, published by Pleasure Boat
Studio, 2022. https://sherryrind.wixsite.com/writer
Sherry lives on the ancestral land of the Coastal Salish nation, now Lynnwood, Washington.
