They care not

what washes into it

unconcerned with

what becomes of it

they are in it

to be top predator

and make some bucks


Does not matter

all the more overfishing

devastated breding grounds

lower down their nets go

they hate all do gooders

with their interfering regulations

with their know better than me

how dare they say I am not right


They now are bottom feeders

passing their reworded catch

on to our hungry mouths

and into our minds

take what you get

is what we are told

be glad you receive

anything at all

whatever happened

to your gratitude

you bunch of whiners


The world is this ocean

of what is good and bad

decomposed and new

and all running together

through and through

the facts of it

cherry picked to suit

what you and i and others

wish to do to get more stuff


Onto farmlands are pumped

this muck salty swishing brine

dead ducks stuck in pop rings

all manner of garbage and new

festering primordial souplings

tasting of mixed medical waste

but still the angry unhappy

fishers of common men

flood the cherry fields

to pump the ocean dry


When death is pulling clear

when so much seems done

still they will complain

of the hooked bitter buyers

they force this combination on

“We do it for your own protection!”

they scream on at election time

as saltwater flushes through

bleeding cherry fields

we are told

it is now

our finest

our holy wine.