Siluroid

I am the prize catch I live in an artificial lake fed by a nappe phréatique I was put there to keep lesser fish: carp from taking up too much space I live to be caught and caught again and be let loose as rain I protest only to attract attention Twenty minutes to make things look good for the fresh-water sportsman I know now well how to play the game My almost fanless tail A slithering mermaid mass from my puffed-up head where overcoat-button eyes sunk on either side of my gaping gasping mouth shell-fish fins for hands Seven beige whiskers under my gawking chin make me the butt of dare-devil diving click-clucking coots Even the slender-necked darting grebe ignores me I stay low when the wild geese gather with their young : duckling swan barnacle I make no sound to call my own Only the crunch of carp between two rows of filed-down molars It is not my duty to swagger around even under my metallic raincoat camouflage I hide where the yarrow stalks grow thick and deep or where the weeping willows dip their loaded plaits Every Sunday I await the sporting hameçon The tear makes the wear more ludique Only the side of my underlip looks like a harelip It doesn’t much matter for the fun-loving trotters and rovers like to marvel with pride at my side in the fishing-club picture of the week Meantime I gorge myself with carp That’s why I hardly ever wish to carp © T. Wignesan – Paris - 2012 Note : The Siluroid , one of the largest fresh-water fishes, sometimes a metre and a half in length.