Silverfish - Intercollegiate Studies Institute

Silverfish

The silverfish, unable to crawl up

The steep, cool porcelain walls,

Goes round and round the oblong

Until I turn on the water and it spins,

Scrambling furiously, down the bathtub drain

Into the secret night of this house from which

It appeared, looking for I know not what,

For light maybe,

But not certainly this brutal, careless drowning.

The silverfish doesn’t know anything—

Doesn’t know it repulses the world around it,

The human world that means nothing,

Not even the hand reaching out for the faucet

Or the hint of fear it creates with all its legs

Propelling it into the orifices of the imagination,

The mind’s basement into which all things go—

From which all things come.

Robert Champ

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