One Rainy Morning in April

Don’t ask me how he managed

to corkscrew his way

through the pavement

on Kensington High Street,

but there he was:

Stranded, this huge fish.

His fin, three-cornered,

A piece of sheet-iron.

Row upon row of

Knife-edged teeth.

At first, thrashing, slamming

the once crowded sidewalk.

Now circling, uncoiling.

Pedestrians run for safety.

One, not quite quick enough.