Fugu

Kaveh Akbar

the liver of a blowfish is said to
be the tastiest part       it’s also the
most toxic an ounce enough to kill ten
men       I have avoided it completely
which is not to say I’ve been unreckless
as a boy I saw a wolf in the shade 

of a yew tree      I stared      it stared at my
staring      I whispered banam-e-khudah
it bolted      it could have shredded me like
a paper kite in a storm      I used to
believe my father’s umbrella caused the 
rain      he was so powerful      nobody
has turned out to be as powerful as
I believed my father to be least of
all my father with his insulin and
heart medication      now he can’t even
eat the fruit he grows which doesn’t stop him
from growing it      he dries it sends boxes
of pressed quince apple cherry peach pear plum 

that I struggle to love other men is
a lie I’ve uttered with confidence at
certain convenient moments in my life
I can’t imagine anything less true
now with the dizzying sweet fruit still stuck
in my teeth      my gums and tongue tinted green
a quiet question answering itself