You are killing our fish

You are killing our fish

They were snatched from their mother’s teats in the billowing folds of the Ganges
the supine lipids of the Bosporus
and more specifically
from Surrey Aquatics and Pet Megastore

Trapped by the net
of the man with the ferocious contact dermatitis
in duplicity
and shepherded into a clear plastic bag
and from there to a shining
tower
of crystalline grandeur
they sang in unison
'this is our salvation - our Euphrates - we are the very few, the lucky few'

Your right hand is the god of their hasty kingdom
they supplicate it
with imperceptible prayers
and genuflect their gentle fins upon its Martian flesh.
It feeds and scours and lifts
the corpses of their brethren
up into the sky
and in
to bliss
and the green topped bin

But your ardour for their shiny souls has waned
they are to be consumed by your betrayal
you have deflected their thin lipped platitudes
crushed their sun in your palm
stolen the teal petals
of air
with which they gilded their lair
and plunged them in to beer brown stillness

'Save them'
I beseeched you
'It's half past four in the morning'
you replied
'Save them' I rejoined
'theirs will be an ignominious death
deprived of sustenance and
of hope'
You turned to me, your vulpine grimace pixilated by the light of the digital
alarm clock
'If it matters to you that much you can fucking well muck them out yourself'
you snarl

But I am weak
and lumpen
and grist
you
are a deity
and with your
mighty Marigold gloved hand
you alone
can bestow beatitude
or this
will be
their epitaph