NaPo 09 ~ Oistins on Friday

Oistins on Friday

Fish scales blue as chop sea
scraped on tables, guttings
knocked to earth for dogs
and cats and white gulls.

She smiles large as waves
caught on evening huffs
of breeze: "You need good
macaroni pie go wid de cutter,
mister, put some flesh
on dose bones. Hah! No bounce
in you, skinny as de fish
in de bun like I make for you!"

Gulls and cats and shouts and dogs
and cheap white chairs in dust
wet from washed trestles;
guttings of the sun in the sea.

And dark, so quick. A growl
of diesel, here, and here, here
and lights on lines round sheds.
"You stay a while, skinny man
and we do some dancing, hah,
you de fish and me de cutter
catch your bones in my buns
washed down with good rum, yes?"

Nets on poles shine in lights;
spouge plays on decks, new words
to old beats fresh-caught today;
spice grog with conch and lime.