Fishing In Cities Poem by Tom Billsborough

I know an unpolluted stream
Where louche pikes congregate
To snatch the passing prey.
Under the weeping willows lurks
This unexpected terror,
Which bivouacs in corners.
The City traffic swims
Along the streams in bright acrylics,
and being careful not to touch,
As fish, exude a sense of nervousness.
But mostly they are confident
Of their self-elected fast response
To any danger threatened.
The shops gleam out, invite another world
As do the tall sides of aquaria
And passers-by will poke their noses
At the glass, as fishes do,
To gaze upon the bright arrays,
And on themselves, of course.
They too are cautious not to touch
Their fellows gliding past in streams.
While louche pikes congregate
To snatch unguarded goods
And kidnap cars.
This unexpected terror often
Bivouacked in corners.