Poaching

Vainly I plunge impatient my net
Into the distilated water of the night.
It is nobody walking in the waves;
The water is so clear, too much clear.

Seldom, an old fashioned shark reveals,
In the street auction, few red-necked mermaids
On the Fall’s market where the sailormen
Are mainly suffering of sleeplessness.

Into few windows they’re walking through,
Late customers and also sleepy salesmen,
As in a large aquarium the gelatinous fishes
Make lights to flow in the shop windows.

The fishing is not allowed in there.
Outside it is just seasonal allowed,
For my unimportant soul of poacher,
In this unimportant autumn time.