This poem first saw the light of day at FourTiesLitReview this time last year. i was grateful then & remain so. They are open for submissions, so send your best.
This is a revised version from the original.
Fishermen
i find scorch marks, black smears
barely noticeable against scoria rock hemming
the sea wall, a place concealed from the road
where tourists seldom trespass due to the stench of sewage
from a nearby factory— here fishermen gathered
: the picked ribs of mackerel, a ribbon
of its blue scales in the extinguished embers
a stack of soju bottles, splintered
disposable chopsticks, tipped with ramen stains
in 5 neat piles where each man sat.
what did the men discuss, what tantrums?
i see no footprints back to the road
there seems to be no testimony
as to where they were destined next
—did they jump into the sea & swim to greet the dawn?
Daniel, love the inescapable ending ❤
Cheers Steve. It seems dark at first but it has a symbolic warmth because of the men they are.
The moment they are fish… er… men…
i suppose that’s one way to look at it.
Are you going to post the accompanying video?
i didn’t think of that. Might do next week.
Excellent!