Bait Ball

Plenty more fish in the sea
They all say

So I become a bluefin tuna

Herding a bait ball

Of confused mackerel.
They don’t know what’s coming to them 

This mass of tiny fish

Who congregate in vast numbers for safety

And receive the opposite

As they’re picked off by me,


And, if they’re desperately unlucky

And here they are:

Balled together 

Just to be consumed.

And here I am

Searching for another pair

Of ice blue eyes:

A clear stare 

That masks multitudes

Pale eyes a conduit to a soul.
Left swipe, right swipe

Some of the mackerel rejected:

Too fat, tattooed, or

“I have a three year old princess and she’s my world”


Or they don’t like dogs or cats

Or they want to bloody travel

Or they’ve got their shirts off

Or their willies out

Or they don’t have photos

Or their photos are of their shit cars.
I’ve balled them


I have a list.

Let’s see who swims into my sharp-toothed jaws.

Thrashing my tail:

My muscled body 

The basis for the design

Of battleships.
And this is how one 

Finds love these days:

We all know people 

Who’ve married someone they met here.

It’s depressing.
But my preferred method: hunting them in the street in broad daylight

Doesn’t work with mackerel.

So it’s swoop and click,

Chomp and swallow –

Flicking my strong tail.

The water shimmers on my scales:

Highlights the spines down my back.

I’m beautiful: the perfect predator –

Silver, blue and streamlined –

A vicious, silent hunter.
Herding them into a tight ball

And picking off the chosen ones

Drinking them down with the sea water

Trying not to choke.
Happy Monday everyone!


  1. L. Rorschach · February 6, 2017

    LOVE THIS! Brilliant and so true. xx

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Sally Feldman · February 7, 2017

    This is your best so far xxx

    Liked by 1 person

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