Northcote Rd fishmonger

If I was a little fish

I would steer clear of tartar

and any kind of batter.


In the deep

waves, rocking

To sleep


If I was only a little octopus

I'd find comfort in wrapping all my arms

Around any passing jelly

(Although I'd be tempted to eat

Any not too smelly)


In the deep

Beneath a rock

Squiggling asleep.


If I was a salmon

My big old tail would

Swipe from Canada to Scotland

Leave a trail of bubbles in the ocean

Rising to the river

Of my brood


No fly

Skim the net

Sleep, glass eyed.


If I was any one of those

Driven by sleep and hunger

It would be an unwelcome tableau,

This slab of a London fishmonger.