A fact is a fish on ice. 
We can all see its glassy eye. 
We can all feel its razor-edged fins.
We can all smell its sea-salty past. 
A fact is raw.
It can be baked, grilled, or fried,
but we can all agree we are eating fish. 
Perhaps you like fish,
perhaps you don’t,
but there it is—
staring up at you. 


© Elizabeth Steinglass, 2019, all rights reserved

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