Remembering a Bait Shop in Tenby, Wales
A murderer’s emporium: Freezers
full of Sweeney Todd’s razors.
Vacuum-packed sprats to make alphas choke.
Fresh lugworms to fatten connoisseurs.
Who can forget the Venetian carnival
of feathery lures? Glow in the dark
fake squid? Sometimes I see them lighting
my way as I stumble through countless corridors.
Lines are cast. Victims picked. Their guts
stuffed with unwilling gifts. Every eye
slipping back to milk-white, another judgment.
My legs spasm with their movements, collapsing from final gasps.
At night, I run a finger around my mouth to feel
for the outline of hooks and rivulets of blood
more connected to the sea spray and sound
of birds bringing tomorrow on their wings.
Christian Ward is a UK-based writer who has recently appeared in The Dewdrop, Dodging the Rain, Blue Unicorn, The Seventh Quarry, Bluepepper, Tipton Poetry Journal, The Amazine and Rye Whiskey Review. His first collection, Intermission, is out now on Amazon.