Fish Poem

I believe in fish.  I believe that few things are as elegant as their sinuous carvings through the blue, small jetties twisting outward off their caudal fin.  Drifting sea horses and lightning-fast swordfish, carpet sharks that look more like the doormat at your granny’s than a fish. Mudskippers, darters, moa-moas, electric eels; an infinite collection of forms and shapes and lives and sizes that make me believe in fishes.

I used to pray for fishes.  The night before fishing trips with my dad I would lie awake in bed, praying for God to deliver me a lunker.  I still dream about fish. At 12 I got my scuba license so I could swim with them.  When I was 14 my dad took me to the Keys.  On a sunny day in 40 ft of water, the reef’s landscape went dreary as a cloud-shaped fish eclipsed the sun.  It was a manta ray, and its massive form was playing with our tiny bubbles. As the light was concealed, I became very calm, very focused, and in awe of these winged giants.  From then on I knew I wanted to be a fish.

I Dream About Fish

Several times a week I dream about fishes.  Sometimes I’m catching them, sometimes I’m swimming with them, and sometimes I am one.  Last night I dreamt that I was fishing with a friend when I got a bite.  My bait was taken by a blood-red, bloated monster of a stingray.  My friend and I both tugged as hard as we could, then like a slingshot the huge crimson saucer erupted from the water and flew Frisbee style hundreds of feet behind us.  Dreams like this are not unusual for me.

I like pan-fried perch, trout on a stick, baked black-cod, striped marlin in garlic butter, deep-fried catfish, and barbecue barracuda.  I like cooking fish right after catching them, preferably in a campfire on the banks of a lake or a beach.  When I was in Australia I caught four months’ worth of reef fish on one trip.  All semester I cooked fish for my friends; we rolled sushi and stuffed onions in the mouths of pig-sized nannagais.

The Wisdom of Fish

It’s as simple as the soft ripples in the wake of a tuna.  The philosophy of fishes is deep, and almost always just as cliché.  “Just keep on swimming” or “swimming against the current” or “if you give a man a fish…”  But for me, fish just represent the simple pleasures of life and the brilliance of nature.

I think I will become a fisherman. Maybe find myself a beachside cabana with a garden, where I can live out my days in peace until my inevitable death and – if I’m lucky – I am reborn as a fish.