If my home was septic as yours
I’d etch a line out on the shores
with fins crossed in silent protest
on the sand, so soiled and grotesque
I’d be high-taling it, anti-whaling it
and hauling my blubbery ass
to land.
If I swam the brackish blue
in fear of hook, line, or harpoon
I’d be outta there,
stowing my dorsal gear
torpedoing towards the shallows,
away from deep-sea trawling gallows,
and telling all my fine finned fellows
to make a break.
But, I’m quite content here on the beach;
leaving trash behind to leach
and drain the beauty from the place
you make your home
I’m flat out working on my tan,
speckling the coast with half-crushed cans
to give a glance, concern, or damn
for another “endangered listed,”
my grand kids won’t believe existed.
catherinesietkiewicz.com 
Print off your poems and stick them to street posts. Have you’re url attached. Have a photo or illustration attached.
the-hunting-party.com skype.simon_hakim t. +613 9013 0783 m. +61 409 963 632 f. +613 9078 5673 Level 4 Mitchell House 358 Lonsdale St melbourne VIC 3000 Australia
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