on a limb of the Pacific
remote missions trailing
great harvesting nets
sluicing sea spittle,
sonar battens down
pound for pound
blip for blip
stakes for lawmakers
to rush cutters
until it's in the numbers
for towns marked by tarred pilings
barnacled green gray freighters
to lay up docks
sealed in tetanus
let shore fall to tides
air sift through to fish
graceful in a slow count
coursing in locked arcs
metallic buoyant bodies.
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