Fish and Chips

Six senses and you could not see the net
that pulled you from the water.
What a waste of 450 million years.
You were perfected ambition before mammals birthed or
plants grew.
Those ampullae giving such sensitivity,
an ocean in each pocket of flesh,
a world of electricity
sliding through reefs of ancient nerves.
Smooth and toothful you have no use for words,
you are water, not air,
feeling those fields, fish flesh,
suspended in the sea.
Your slick oblivion is no match now for thumbs,
boats, bait, plastic and hunger:
how little you can see.

They fried you in vegetable oil.
You have no use for vegetables.