Knives stropped sharp.
Fish with teeth like needles,
and scales like razors.
Hands ever scarred.
Blood and entrails-stained apron
worn as a uniform.
Scale encrusted boots,
looking more like fins than feet.
It’s always cold and wet.
No matter.
I can carve you a banquet,
presented in yesterday’s newspaper.
©T.Puma/MMXII
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