Saint-Brieuc
Jake Onyett
You settled here
For the fruits of the colder sea
The cream and the caramel
Seared St-Jacques from Saint-Brieuc Bay
45 minutes twice a week
From October to March
To dredge the pregnant bottoms
Pink striated shell casings
Tall jelly coins
Of velvet white flesh
Trawler decks simple and full
Not your last catch
Even as the gray dust
Blankets the waves
Sea foam radioactive
The risk to choose
Delicious poison
In your belly
Chart a course
Another out and back
Their rusted nets and yours
The salt and saliva
Of the powers that be
You could race
The fallout contours
All the way to the Azores
The enemy
Was so clear back then
Bold broad brush
Of first strikes struck
Surest of consequences
For all
Changing the meaning
Of shelter
Collaborate
To escape this calamity
The stench of shame
Wafts up from under
Like the guts
On the cleaning table
When the sun was strong
Used to be a sprint
45 minutes twice a week
From October to March
Now it’s no-holds-barred
All you can catch
For whatever is left
