leaping tuna with flashing tails
aloft aloft
over the wheeling Earth
brushed aluminium scales
gill-flap moon until I sleep
blows bubbles
sky high, scant white froth
of cloud and I’m down deep
on sea’s bed rummaging light
a shouldered mist
soft hum and spume of spray
laddered eucalypt takes flight
silver and black my kelpish dreams
bulbous shadow
from trawling snail’s silhouette
but nothing is quite what it seems.
I had this kind of waking dream a couple of weeks ago about all the tins of tuna on the supermarket shelf and how many fish that was. We don’t eat much fish because my husband is a scuba diver and has seen how the seas are getting emptier and emptier of life. But I had been having tinned tuna occasionally to fulfill those nutrient requirements. But the dream has been haunting me so I have had tuna on the mind a little. While sick last year I let go of muchnof my consciousness about food and the planet. But my guilt is coming back in full force. In this poem the tuna is more about the colour I wanted. But it could have been barramundi, now you mention it.
I find that it is something I am conscious of, but I can’t give up meat completely. Fish is a grey area. Even looking at replacements, something like cheese has a significant footprint of its own.
But clearly, pre-Industrial Revolution, the human race was able to live sustainably, so meat at some level must be sustainable.
Delightful worms. Fantastic flow. This imaginary place you take us with tuna moon and seaweed dreams. I want to go there again and again.
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Thanks K! 💙 I was inspired by how you slip rhyme into your poems. It adds something. A dash of flavour.
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I take it you *have* tuna down there, do you?
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I had this kind of waking dream a couple of weeks ago about all the tins of tuna on the supermarket shelf and how many fish that was. We don’t eat much fish because my husband is a scuba diver and has seen how the seas are getting emptier and emptier of life. But I had been having tinned tuna occasionally to fulfill those nutrient requirements. But the dream has been haunting me so I have had tuna on the mind a little. While sick last year I let go of muchnof my consciousness about food and the planet. But my guilt is coming back in full force. In this poem the tuna is more about the colour I wanted. But it could have been barramundi, now you mention it.
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I find that it is something I am conscious of, but I can’t give up meat completely. Fish is a grey area. Even looking at replacements, something like cheese has a significant footprint of its own.
But clearly, pre-Industrial Revolution, the human race was able to live sustainably, so meat at some level must be sustainable.
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I think it’s the size of our human population that is unsustainable.
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Lovely images again, Worms.
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Thanks Hobbo. Pretty surreal. 😊
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Very. You make my head spin!
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I love it Worms. Took me down to the seaside and the words rocked me like the waves.
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Thanks, Ulle! So glad you liked it.
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Those curiously surreal and utterly perfect images again! 🙂
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Writing when you can’t sleep. Brings out the weirdness.
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This feels dream-like, just as you said. Lovely meter to it, too.
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Thank you!
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