Lucky Carp
When he first latches on there is a lot of commotion. He plucks at my shirt, and his eyes move back and forth like he’s reading a newspaper. He moves his head around, sometimes rearing back to give me a look, stretching to the end of his tether and then letting go with a wet snap. His feet paddle back and forth like he’s finning around underwater. Then the activities slow down and stop. He clutches a handful of shirt and lets it go. His lids get heavy and his eyes roll back, or drift apart. The doctor says that’s normal up to eight months or so. He starts pausing between gulps, and doing a little flutter movement with his mouth. His lips look like a carp. Like he should have barbels stirring up the sand, rooting around for tiny crustaceans. He falls asleep and looks like a statue of a fish, all fat and happy, pink and gold.
