"The Fish Fry"
I got up from my desk to see what the clamor in the kitchen
I gasped in horror when i saw
the huge decapitated head of a dying fish in the sink, separated
from its body unnaturally, and my husband Theodore with a
steaknife, sawing away at the heads of a dozen other small fish
they were quite alive!  Then they were quite dead...something ran ajar
within my heart, came unhinged, a madness flew like a crazed bird
from its cages in my heart, and Theodore looked up at me, his eyes
were asking me if i could ever forgive him. "I went fishing, " he explained,
helplessly.  I didn't know how this had affected his heart, and so, troubled,
I quickly stifled my horror at the dead fish and set to work healing his mess
and his troubles.  I thought, "What can I Do with Theodore and all these fish?"
Their hearts are ALL broken!  So something kindled in me, something motherly,
i said, "Well...It's time to fry them up, Theodore" to which he heartily agreed,
grateful for this forgiveness and grace.  I got a skillet, melted a stick of butter,
added half a cup of lemon juice, and gave him a bowl of salted flour, and I
Instructed Theodore To Pat them in flour and Fry them Whole.  Which He did.
We Ate Fish For A Long Time, picking tiny bones and scales out of our teeth
Then we turned down the lights, and put our nightclothes on and snuggled into bed
And I poured us each some Blue Raspberry Koolaid, which he drank.  I fell asleep
in his warm loving arms, grateful that i had known just how to cook his violent massacre.