V.56

It’s been raining for weeks. The fish
have left the ocean and are fled
to swim among the raindrops in
the air. Airships begin to hunt.

I was walking today downhill
from town when one of those trawlers
passed overhead. It had the sight
of a great shoal over Sheepscar.

I heard the sailors calling, then
the terrible noise of ratchets
releasing. The net jettisoned
had destroyed the park. I ran down

and watched as apartments and trees
were ground to pieces, as people
were screaming and pulled skywards, fast
as the fish were caught and the old

neighbourhood destroyed. I asked her,
this fisher, what’s the strangest thing
you’ve drawn up from the foggy murk
of the city? Unfeeling eyes.

“I once caught a whole damn marriage.
The bride was hanging by her train,
Her mouth opening and closing
in a strange way. We threw them back