Fishing" ~ A Published Writing

Tonight I am fishing in my rough bark on the black sea.
I am reeling in the net.
that is full of babies,
heads' hair fine like black faun's fur
With white twitching
arms and legs.
The skin on their torsos
vaguely translucent,
i can see their heart's beating
like furious cuts of meat.
They are crying like newborns
splashing like frightened seatrout.
How will I know
which one to keep
I can't eat them all.
As i ponder this one falls into the boat
like a wet sponge.
It smells like fish and brine.
it's tiny white chest heaving
it's still learning
how to breathe.
perhaps it is learning how to cry for it's mother
who lives in the depths
where the sun can't go.
I will keep this one then
It will be tasty, I think,
with lemon juice and tartar
perhaps a buttered slice
of honey wheat bread as well.
And as i ponder how poets eat their young
I throw the rest back.
With a splash they swim away
going down.
Diving deep like seabass
where the dark
maternal shapes
move like mountains.
 

Author's Note

This "Prose" (if you will) was published in "filthy creations IV"