(for Joy)
Sun on the balance of their scales,
the fish are for sale.
Enemy boats sag breathless in the harbour.
Caught in a world turned over,
Cod & Co lie flat on a box,
their dead eyes pointed out
towards the sea.
Underwater clouds,
flying fins,
surf-surge in a tiny spirit.
Buy them and know
what you are buying.
Eat their hearts out,
wet swallows will swim
in the rumbling sea bed of your stomach.
Take off your salty glasses,
see that through your starstruck eyes
these fish are fresh,
floaters in the drifting skull
feeding a coral brain,
hooked still on the gold sea air
and the brightest of lines.
KEITH ARMSTRONG
