my neighbor is making a fish in his yard

he owns a little plot of heaven land.
the other ghosts who smoke
on their windowsills & tether clotheslines 
to the walls of their apartments. 
the house with a half in its number 
was a place of angels & genesis. 
i watched fish crawl from the basement 
with their first legs. frogs whose eyes
blinked from the sink. it was worst
when we were snowed in for two weeks.
i saw my neighbor in his tiny sky yard.
he hunched over & brought bucket
after bucket of grease from his house.
formed the fish from feathers & wire.
it breathed like a thunder storm. 
i watched as it stalked the edges of his fence.
white pouring from the slit-throat sky.
i was terrified of his creation just like i was
terrified of the couple who fought long
into the night & the man who sold guns
off the front porch. once i cut his hair
& in the process i saw all kinds of fish
in his scalp. he asked, "what is wrong?"
& i said, "nothing." people react
in all different kinds of ways
when they are discovered. i always wanted
to be discovered but not like a hostage.
i wanted the fish to see me. 
swallow me like jonah. listen 
to my prophecies. when the snow melted 
all that was left were the bones.
damp cigarette butts on the sidewalk. 
a dead man on the roof or 
was he a fish?