for the love of the sea

an old man.a fishing net.
a basket full of dead fish
and dying stories.
dogs whine in the distance
petted by strangers,
bribed with glucose biscuits-
the cheapest in the shack
that makes tea with the same tea leaves
all day.flavorful.
when the day's work is done
and the boats have dried out
and it is time for the old man to go home
the shack lit up by a single bulb
burning on stolen power
from wires hung low
feeding those who can afford
television sets and fresh fish
temporary lovers will find a refuge
just like them
having lied at home
about being at tuition
they live out their lies
sprawled on the sand
gazing at the stars
because some movie told them
it was romantic.

the old man will return next morning
and find a paper boat
nestled under his wooden one.
he will float them both
out into the sea
hoping at least one would come back.
the tea stall will keep a stained cup
ready for him.
elsewhere
someone is giving out
last night's leftover fish
to his wife.