"You wouldn't hurt a sea-kitten" they said.
"Fucking try me" I thought. Though
I wouldn't know where to begin
because, the classics are out.
It would be redundant to hurl one
in a canal. But,
I could wait in lay all snorkelled up
and as they go about their lives
clap the unsuspecting tails and burst the surface,
over-arming in twos to land
may reach the same effect. But,
not being adept to catch in hand
the dry or wet. I'd rather sit
line's length away and bait
with shiny jangly hook, then
when snared, yank with expert wrist-flicking
(I assume. I know nothing of fishing.)
Steal from the brine a sodden ball of fur
and claws, panicked flailing and tracing an arc
then spinning and slowing, hung-dangled
from a fibreglass pole like a Christmas bauble,
then
when fades its final sighing mew,
I'd meet in glance those tiny giant's eyes...
Tie myself in sacks of bricks
and roll unto my drowning!
Alright you bastards!
I don't think I could hurt a sea kitten but,
I promise you this...
I would never stroke a land-salmon!