Any Motion Is an Offense Against the Inner Ear
We cut bait for Bluefish, chum the
Water until the bait is spit back, then
Use long white strips of indestructible
Squid, tinctured and hanging from treble
Hooks. It’s soon all the same with me
Too close to clouds falling away to the next
Swell wishing for the leisurely sway of
Weeds where the madrigals of oysters are
In the movements of stems so fine and leafy,
Dipping in plankton, that only its green
Florescence reminds you of breathing in soft
Scrapes on rough green shells
We twist open with fat handled knives that
Hold easily rusted blades. The air is too thin
Father when you twist strands of wire for
Bluefish leader or push blades into the seam
Of oysters. It’s toon thin watching the tilt of
Break waters wanting to forget the easy
Regurgitation you tell me is Latin for what
The movement of Bluefish is through the shifting
Schools of menhaden.
by John Norcross
John Norcross is a poet from Lansing and this poem was one of four poems by Norcross which appeared in the Michigan State University’s Red Cedar Review Vol XV No. 1 in 1982. Used with permission of the author.
