by Kevin Griffin
Antidepressants are building up in fish brains
while massive balloons help scientists build tunnels
underground where subatomic particles may
reveal key forces that could bind massless photons
to create real-world lightsabers, which, in the end,
won’t be nearly effective as, say, the handgun,
modern ballistic weapon so loved it’s passed on
now like a contagion, disease that spreads like small
acts of random kindness, large and larger ripples
expanding in the fabric of space-time, taking
us back to deepest blue waters where, overwrought,
we gasp for air, we dive down hard, we swim for shore.
"Fish" was noted as Honorable Mention for our 2017 Up North Poetry Prize.
Kevin Griffin teaches English and Creative Writing at Detroit Catholic Central High School. He lives in Plymouth, Michigan, with his wife, Premu, and two sons. His first chapbook, Line and Hook, was published by the Michigan Writers Cooperative Press in 2017. His poetry has been published in The Broad River Review, The Garfield Lake Review, The MacGuffin, and Third Wednesday, among other publications.