A face poked out of a net
its eyes
Show mortal terror
the lows the highs
such trepidation
fear and dread
in a mass of bodies
just one head
hauled from the ocean
intimidated
shivering shuddering
in the grip
memories flooding through the eyeballs
hysterically startled
snout and lip
unconcern lack of zeal
heedlessness
a lone appeal
Lack of wonder
lack of care
taken for granted
that we were there
to feed the masses
the chivalrous few
give up our bodies
to satisfy you
a fish makes a wish
and is caught as we see
hauled unceremoniously
out of the sea
sullen forbidding
ill tempered hordes
ready and waiting
for their rewards
a relentless pursuit
to kill and to maim
and to skin and to bake
and to do so by flame
what is right
what is wrong
where did we belong
in the sea swimming free
life as good
as it could be
presumption encroachment
wilful disrespect
Swept up in a mass
who dares object
disloyal and rebellious
we absentees
are ready to die
really to please.
Rex Tyler is a Poet, Campaigner, former owner of an organic shop of 30 years, and Public Speaker living in Berkhamsted, UK.