1535: Goldfish by Francisco Márquez

Summary

---

Podcast Summary: The Slowdown – Ep. 1535: "Goldfish" by Francisco Márquez

Date: June 11, 2026
Host: Dianelli Antigua (guest host)
Podcast: The Slowdown: Poetry & Reflection Daily
Duration: ~6 min

---

Episode Overview

In this episode, guest host Dianelli Antigua explores our relationship with death and the human impulse to witness and reckon with loss. Through personal reflection and the reading of Francisco Márquez’s poem "Goldfish," Antigua contemplates how curiosity, discomfort, tenderness, and confrontation coexist when we encounter death—be it of a loved one or a tiny goldfish. The episode meditates on the act of looking closer, even when we want to turn away, and how in death, the reality of life and tenderness can become more vivid.

---

Key Discussion Points & Insights

1. Childhood Encounter with Death

• Personal Anecdote – Antigua recalls her first experience with death at age four, attending her aunt’s funeral:
  • Her aunt's foreshadowing of death by giving away beloved possessions.
  • Realizing the gravity of goodbye even at a young age.
• Family Attitude towards Death –
  • Death talked about openly in Antigua’s family; a normal topic in conversation, without fear or secrecy.
  • Quote (00:50):

    “Cuando yo muera, when I die. It wasn't said in hushed tones. It was part of conversation, very matter of fact, at times part of a joke.” — Dianelli Antigua

2. The Human Need to Witness

• The Wake and Vigil –
  • Antigua reflects on the meaning of a wake: “keeping vigil” with the dead as a communal act of seeing them off, akin to seeing a friend off at a train station.
  • The urge to see, touch, and hear even in silence, to reckon with the finality.
• Reluctance and Selectivity –
  • Contrasts between deaths we instinctively move toward and others from which we shy away.
  • Shares story of avoiding the sight of a drowned mouse in her kitchen:
    • Quote (02:15):

      “There are deaths I have wanted to turn away from. Once, a mouse drowned in a rice pot I left soaking in the sink. I didn’t want to see it. That was a death I wanted to be shielded from.” — Dianelli Antigua

  • Acknowledges complexity: “Curiosity and tenderness can exist alongside discomfort.”

3. Introducing the Poem: "Goldfish"

• Theme Connection –
  • The poem serves as a lens to approach the tension between looking away and looking closer at death, and what intimacy or understanding emerges through that act.
  • Quote (03:05):

    "Today's poem leans into that impulse. It moves through the experience of encountering death up close and the ways we try to understand it." — Dianelli Antigua

---

Poem Reading: "Goldfish" by Francisco Márquez

[Begins at ~03:30]

• Poem Summary: After discovering a dead goldfish, the speaker and sister dissect it, pondering tenderness and the anatomy of both fish and memory. The poem bridges the tactile experience of exploring the goldfish's inner workings with the complicated feelings of witnessing a great grandmother’s decline—linking the impulse to understand death physically and emotionally.
• Notable Lines & Moments:
  • “The only way to ever know tenderness is to dismantle it.”
  • “The goldfish became more real in death than in life.”
  • Reflection on the shame of curiosity when observing a loved one near death.

---

Reflection & Memorable Quotes

• On Shame and Closeness
  • The episode closes with Antigua’s reflection paralleling the observations of the goldfish’s body and her own great grandmother—recognizing the difficult urge to look closer rather than retreat:
    • Quote (05:02):

      “I was ashamed to have thought this, as I was ashamed in the hospital to see our great grandmother motionless in bed, not dead, unable to remember who I was, her stillness terribly material, somehow weighty but nearly evaporative, and I wanted to turn away from her, her body emptied of soul. But I moved even closer, and like one who studies a corpse to know what it is that moves a hand, I looked in her eyes to find in them the end of knowledge.” — Dianelli Antigua (reflecting on Márquez’s poem)

---

Timestamps for Important Segments

• 00:15–02:00 – Antigua shares her earliest experience with death and her family’s approach to mortality.
• 02:00–03:10 – Discussion of the impulse to witness, stories of deaths we avoid and deaths we confront; the complexity of emotion around death.
• 03:10–03:30 – Introduction to "Goldfish" and its thematic resonance.
• 03:30–05:30 – Complete reading of Francisco Márquez’s "Goldfish."
• 05:30–06:31 – Antigua’s final reflections; drawing together themes of shame, curiosity, and intimacy in the face of loss.

---

Episode Tone & Takeaway

Reflective, compassionate, and tender, the episode invites listeners to consider the ways in which looking at death—rather than flinching away—can reveal profound truths about love, knowledge, and what remains after loss. Antigua's gentle voice and personal insight foster a sense of belonging and shared humanity, even in moments of discomfort.

---

For more poetry and daily reflections, visit slowdownshow.org

Transcript

[A]

All new drinks are now at McDonald's, like the strawberry Watermelon Refresher and the Sprite Berry Blast topped with cold foam. Who knew ice cold drinks could be so fire? Try them all now at McDonald's. Refreshers contain caffeine.

[B]

Hey there. Today's episode is hosted by the poet Dianelli Antigua. Enjoy, and I'll be back on June 22nd. I'm Dianelli Antigua, and this is the Slowdown. I was four years old the first time I went to a funeral. My aunt had passed away after a battle with cancer. We knew she was going to die when she started giving away her things to me. She gave her collection of Cabbage Patch dolls. I remember holding those dolls, not fully understanding the weight of this goodbye, but knowing it was the final one. I wasn't protected from her death, and I find myself grateful for that now. Growing up, the older relatives in my family would say things like, cuando yo muera when I die. It wasn't said in hushed tones. It was part of conversation, very matter of fact, at times part of a joke. But in every instance, they were acknowledging the inevitable without turning away from it. When it comes to death, we often have a need to witness. It is our human instinct to see and touch, to hear their silence. I remember wondering why it was called awake service and learning that it comes from staying awake, from keeping vigil over the body before burial. We're keeping the dead company as they transition, much like we would with a friend at a train station before they move across the country. And yet there are deaths I have wanted to turn away from. Once, a mouse drowned in a rice pot I left soaking in the sink. I didn't want to see it. That was a death I wanted to be shielded from. We move towards some deaths and away from others. Curiosity and tenderness can exist alongside discomfort. And still we look. We move closer. We try to reckon with what has changed, what is left, what remains. Today's poem leans into that impulse. It moves through the experience of encountering death up close and the ways we try to understand it. Goldfish by Francisco Marquez. After we found it motionless on the floor, an amber ray refracting on porcelain. My sister took a knife to its side and sliced it, two halves, revealing a single squalid thing, like the underside of an embroidery. Years ago, I was told the only way to ever know tenderness is to dismantle it. So I think that's where our questions began. In the body of a fish, an animal so invisible it was almost ornamental. Internal organs so translucent they resembled Victorian gowns, its swim bladder suspended amidst the folds of its accordion heart, intestine rolled up in the braiding of a rope, and so much existed inside it, a living machinery, that the goldfish became more real in death than in life. I was ashamed to have thought this, as I was ashamed in the hospital to see our great grandmother motionless in bed, not dead, unable to remember who I was, her stillness terribly material, somehow weighty but nearly evaporative, and I wanted to turn away from her, her body emptied of soul. But I moved even closer, and like one who studies a corpse to know what it is that moves a hand, I looked in her eyes to find in them the end of knowledge. The Slowdown is a production of American Public Media in partnership with the Poetry Foundation. To get a poem delivered to you daily, go to slowdownshow.org and sign up for our newsletter. Find us on Instagram @downdownshow and bluesky@downdownshow.

[C]

Start your day with Marketplace Morning Report and me, Kimberly Adams. In 10 minutes or less, I'll explain the day's economic news, why it matters, and what it means for the way you live and work. Tune in each weekday morning for independent, award winning journalism that brings clarity to the economy. Listen to Marketplace Morning Report on your favorite podcast.

[A]

Apparently.