Collapsing In On Itself
A week-dead pike on local stone wall,
Placed there or dropped by some passing seagull
And ignored; once fresh and full now meagre and dull,
Is almost the same as the day that it came,
But entrails have started to go.
(Are they ‘entrails’? I don’t really know.)
Of course it has innards; the roe, liver gall,
And I’d guess there’s a stomach.
It think it’s a pike - maybe perch, not a haddock!
The thing that’s essential, its cardinal what-ness
Is something that shows now whenever I pass it.
Everything rotten or heading that way,
Falls in on itself in its terminal rot-ness.
A pike, a carp, a perch, and various other fish, nets and other fishing equipment on a table -- Pieter de Putter