Starfish Harvest
by Amit Majmudar
The fishermen, ambitious,
Toss nets into the night’s
Pacific flush with schools
Of tilting stars. They might
Yet clear the height as they
Have cleared the deep of all
Its fiberoptic-coiffed
Glowfish and tropical
Aurorafins, those hauls
Of squishy lightbulbs drawn
Dripping onto the deck
And gutted of their dawns.
No sluggish star can swish
Through meshes stitched for fish.
The self-lit flicker; thrash
Diminishes to twitch
Before the captain blanches,
Crests a northless clearing,
And thumbs his coughing lighter
In search of stars to steer him.
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