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.
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