JACOB YANKEY The fish gasps for air in the same way a drowning child does. He is both a fish and not a fish. He is both a human and not a human. He is trying to trick me, to make me think he is my brother – hoping I’ll throw him back into the water and let him slowly wander back to his bottom feeding grounds (the same grounds doing the same things he has always done - eating the poor - as if it wasn’t already too late). We stare into each other’s eyes and I do not believe he is innocent. It is November and today he is not a lucky president.
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