The Caterpillar Roll
Mmmmm....Burger

Eating the Eyeballs of a Horse Mackerel

National Poetry Month 2013 30/3o poem 4.

Eating the Eyeballs of a Horse Mackerel

April happy hour 13 015

The chef placed the fish in front of us.

Splayed, grilled, waiting for our prodding chopsticks.

We started by pulling off the fins,

crunching down on crisp cartilage.

Poking the tan grill marked flesh

until pieces broke free for our mouths.

We turned the head over

looked into its eyes

pulled them out in one pinch with our wooden tools

and chewed.

April happy hour 13 020

 

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