Of course, the issue of cruelty to fish never really existed:
scaly, the antithesis of cuddliness; no legs, cross mouths
and eyes that don’t blink, well, that’s just freaky;
and, of course, they don’t scream, ugly looking critters
shaped like torpedoes; extra-terrestrial.
And still I remember the Siamese fighting fish that time after time
over days, returned to the bottom of the tank to try,
with a brush of its caudal fin, to relaunch its dying companion
or the girl in the shallows, playing with a rock salmon, lobbing it
a few yards out to sea and it returning like a dog with a ball;
was I not seeing the glint of a smile on its piscine features?
