fish fry

robot-fish

robot-fish

 

It’s alright now.

That you reached down deep and pulled my heart out, by its tentacles;

washed the blood off,

scraped my shining blue-green scales into the chum bucket,

sawed my triangle head off,

popped my telescopic eye out

what a prize I was alive,

you did take a picture with me before I was in a million pieces, so you can show what a meal I would be, how willing to bite that hook I was, you brag, later, to all your

two hundred friends who laugh at me.

They didn’t know me.

Long after you had drug me up by the gills from the bottom of the sea

I gasped for breath on the deck under the sun,

you left me there for so long.

Threaded through my gills,

a hard wire you could lift me by

and dip me now and then into the sea

keeping me alive for the knife that would come later

you acted like you cared when you put me in the water

I loved you for the kindness, I made my fish lips at you, did you see me blow you kisses when you pulled me out again? I didn’t know then, how long I’d be left there.

It doesn’t matter

I went a little out of my mind with the constant edge of live or die

with gasping for breath and being bathed

you checked the strength of the lock where you kept me strung up

it was effective whether you noticed me or not

I would flop sometimes, violently,

at times just a wave of a fin,

rotating my eye for a glimpse of the fisherman who snagged me, nowhere in my view, but I knew you existed, you had taken me from the depths, you had done this to me. Where were you?

Gone fishing?

That I am nothing, was disappointing, so it’s alright.

That you took the knife, finally, was the word I used,

— finally.

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