wade
through black jade.
       Of the crow-blue mussel-shells, one keeps
       adjusting the ash-heaps;
              opening and shutting itself like

an
injured fan.
       The barnacles which encrust the side
       of the wave, cannot hide
              there for the submerged shafts of the

sun,
split like spun
       glass, move themselves with spotlight swiftness
       into the crevices—
              in and out, illuminating

the
turquoise sea
       of bodies. The water drives a wedge
       of iron throught the iron edge
              of the cliff; whereupon the stars,

pink
rice-grains, ink-
       bespattered jelly fish, crabs like green
       lilies, and submarine
              toadstools, slide each on the other.

All
external
       marks of abuse are present on this
       defiant edifice—
              all the physical features of
              
ac-
cident—lack
       of cornice, dynamite grooves, burns, and
       hatchet strokes, these things stand
              out on it; the chasm-side is

dead.
Repeated
       evidence ahs proved that it can live
       on what can not revive
              its youth. The sea grows old in it.

Added: on March 19th, 2006 at 9:07 PM | Viewed: 15189 times | Comments (3)

Poet: Marianne Moore
Poem: The Fish

Year: Published/Written in 1921

Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, The Fish, has received 3 comments. Click here to read them, and perhaps post a comment of your own. Of course you can also always discuss poems by Marianne Moore with others on the Poetry Connection poetry forum!