Bait Ball
Freedom fish have devolved into a bait ball.
In tighter and tighter circles, they swim.
Picked off one by one, by invisible things.
Nothing left but scars and stripes -graying meat of death.
Gracing the hazy floor of myth and history.
Eels of anarchy grinning from caves.
Red crabs traverse purple mounds.
Black fins thrashing the amber waves.
Gulls finish off what's "far left" of sane.
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