She eyes me like a Pisces when I am weak
— Kurt Cobain, from “Heart-Shaped Box“
With practiced, sterile, gloved hands she
tosses sample on tray. Her flat black eyes
alight as she studies an oddity — that is me.
Incongruous specimen, distinct from any like,
unearthly beast snagged in satellite net, a
pasty fish-bellied space-breather kin of Pisces.
I flop, un-vacuumed, envisage mercy when
her clinical mallet thumps before scalpel. I
bubble eulogy; back to cosmic sea, where I am
lithe, boundless, starlight, not a mortal, weak.
Melissa is today’s host for dVerse’ Poetics. Melissa says:
you can use the [chosen] line as end words for a golden shovel.


It’s twisted and makes me feel like I’m watching someone’s dissection. Such a wonderful expansion of the quote, Lisa. You have such a way with words.
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K, I tried to channel Kurt and I kept tweaking it until he was pleased with it. Then I went out looking for some artwork connected to him and found that site with his artwork. The piece I chose seems to synch so well with the words.
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Fantastic Lisa :-) well done!
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Thank you, Carol Anne <3
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Love the artwork you’ve chosen! And what an excellent golden shovel you’ve created. I feel the burden of being “distinct from any like,
unearthly beast snagged in satellite net, a
pasty fish-bellied space-breather kin of Pisces.”
Then the release to “bubble eulogy; back to cosmic sea, where I am
lithe, boundless, starlight, not a mortal, weak.” Finally at peace.✌🏻❤️
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Glad you enjoyed the story you inspired with your prompt :) Thank you <3
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What a scene you’ve painted with your words Li. Amazing and evocative
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Thank you, Sadje. I was trying to convey Kurt’s sense of anomie.
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Done well my friend
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Lovely golden shovel, Li. Apt artwork. :)
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Kitty, thank you very much <3
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To be seen as a specimen before the thump of a mallet ends it all… no way to communicate between species (alien or not)
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Well-said, Bjorn. I saw a documentary on Kurt’s life some years back and tried to convey some of what I gleaned from it about him.
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The prompt really lends itself to golden shovels, and yours is so graphic and weirdly mesmerising, Lisa. Those ‘practiced, sterile, gloved hands’ are quite frightening! Fantastic phrases: ‘unearthly beast snagged in satellite net’ and ‘I bubble eulogy’.
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Kim, thank you so much for the feedback. I see Kurt just this way.
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My pleasure, Lisa.
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Strong, peace, Lisa, strong, peace! 👍🏼✌🏼🫶🏼
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<3 Thank you, Rob.
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*piece*
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Peace works well also :)
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There are no accolades strong enough to do justice to your poem honoring the life of this true artist. Brava, Lisa .. Brava.
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Helen, your kind words are much appreciated. I tried to channel him for it.
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The cosmic sea beckons many a lost soul.
Your words, combined with his painting, open a path into his psyche. (K)
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Kerfe, thank you for your insights.
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Oh, this piece is so eerie. I’d never heard of a golden shovel before and couldn’t make out from Melissa’s post what it was, but yours is truly evocative.
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Astrid, thanks for feedback. If you click on “golden shovel” at the bottom of the post, it will take you to what it is, but all it is really is taking a line of poetry and using it one word at a time at the end of each line of your poem.
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Yes I figured that out from your poem. Thanks though.
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I agree, the ‘me’ is a “specimen, distinct from any like, . . .” and should give up. Back to the sea doesn’t sound too good a place to go though, even if it was good enough for her. Nice Write, Lisa!!
..
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Jim, thank you for your lovely comment. Glad you shared what you see in the poem.
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He was a troubled man but a songwriting artist no doubt.
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Yes he was. Joe Talbot, the lead singer of IDLES, has a keen songwriting ability also. I am seriously getting into that group.
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I’ll have to look into them more
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You’ve pulled out all the stops in this homage, Lisa. Well done.
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Dora, many thanks.
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You’re welcome. 😉
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a grand shovel Lisa and one that captures that ethereal way he communicated/lived.
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Paul, thank you so much.
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