Castellamare

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

 

What she was eating

smelled too alive,

as though it would flap

clean off the dish– 

 

the silvered, reeking bass

salt-scaled, widened its gluey eye

as she pronged it, tore it

with a pointy knife

 

crunching through salted skin

and slowly took a bite.

Her husband sat opposite

like a fat apostrophe, creamy belly 

 

thrust out, bobbing for more.

Chewing on a hunk 

of shiny lamb, he eyed her plate

until she offered. Down

 

his fork dived 

and zipped off again,

snatching a gobbled bite ,

mint sauce still smeared 

 

like seaweed

across his gullish lip.

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