At Pike St. Market

Fish fly through the air,
from one set of hands to another.

“Hup!” goes the cry and cameras flash,
tourists jostling with shoppers.

“Yes, ma’am? Swordfish? How many?
Joe! Two fillets swordfish!”


Flash. Wrap in newspaper. “Next!”

A large catfish lies on a mound of ice,
dull eyes watching. It draws the kids closer,
daring them to touch. Then
it jerks and the kids squeal.

A fishmonger drops a string
and they all laugh.

A few more kids will dream
of jumping ugly fish tonight.


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