Yellow-Fins
One by one
yellow-fins are gathering.
Their salty hearts gently filling
with the indigo currents
of struggle -of living.
Tide treading the present...
back-stroking(grimacing) the past.
Front-crawling into future's moaning crag.
Dorsal fin topped dreams and crimson cream
never seem to last...
or do they?
The wicked wield wicked nets... squeezing tighter.
Calloused gaffs move in-greedily.
The joy of yellow fins is flayed...
One by one,
as foul minded sea lice gobble down
a million future suns...
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