my brother & i 
in fish tank rewind.

swim back wards with me like
a nautilus down main street
in Kutztown at night
when the summer bumps 
into you-- the Turkey Hill
gas station was a chapel 
& my brother & i prayed
our lips raspberry slushie blue--
this was the summer my uncle
bought us a giant 
television to cram into
the unfinished living room--
a new portal--
we didn't have cable yet but
we had a few select DVDs
but my younger brother enjoyed
one in particular--
it came with the 
television-- a fish tank 
demo tape--
till this day i can't tell
you why we watched it but
my uncle would feed
the disk into the DVD player 
& my brother &
i would fall inside--
swallow bubbles-- feel
our faces turning fish scale--
he was always orange & white
as a clown fish & i 
was yellow & pensive--
grew whiskers like the crabs--
& finally the last montage would 
rolls around & we 
would swim backwards
& backwards 
& backwards into each other
in the bodies of the nautilus--
push ourselves into
the television-- build tentacles
out
of wires-- stuff
our limbs in the outlets--
dance lonely in the eternal 
motion of falling into a previous self--
my father tells us one July day 
while we're laying on
our stomachs in front
of the synthetic fish tank
that it's nice outside--
that the sun is out 
& it's not too hot--
he stands at the window.
we can't hear 
him over the churning of the fish
tank & even when we do
end up outside we
feel our fish skin dying--
losing the rich blues
& yellows-- absorbed into the sun--
notice 
our bodies gasping, gasping, gasping
for breath--
later in my bed room
i turn on the air conditioner
& lay on my back 
in the middle of the floor--
i imagine myself falling--
dropped into the fish tank
of my bedroom--
plastic aquarium
plants raising their arms 
around me
& my brother is there
like me-- trapped in the perpetual 
nostalgia-ridden
body of a nautilus--
i'm still waiting behind
the television screen--
drifting in the same
pattern-- 
rewind us--rewind us
only to play it back again
we dance the same--
my brother & i still
live in fish tank rewind
some days--
share
a look across a 
living room
hold each other by
the tentacles--
reunite 
from the floors of our bedrooms--
float to the surface.