[annie nance]

I am the sailor
I am the ship
I am the squalling, raging ocean
I’m the wind, too, while I'm at it

But these fish, they’re getting slower
sicker, dumber
Flinging themselves onto the deck
reluctant seekers that don’t want
what they are looking for
that don't know what they are looking for
that don't know what they don't know

I can forgive them their ignorance
but Jesus Christ, Fish,
take a look around yourselves
Don’t you see the other fish
gasping for air, for water, for freedom, release?

As if that's the way the world’s supposed to be
As if gasping is breathing

[John Boddie]

It's a very good final line.
The rest of it comes across as a heavy-handed sermon to the choir.

JB

[Joe Crocker]

It is an excellent last line. But you do need the preceding context to get there -- the exasperated viewpoint of all the non-fish world. The narrator's frustration is funny and sharp.

[Jim Moonan]

.
Hi Annie, I had a thought that may be a leaden one. What if you rewrote the first stanza to say something radically different? Like this:

I am the sailor, not the ship
not the raging ocean, not
the wind either, while I'm at it.

And then take it from there.

The reason why I suggest such a radical turn from "all" is because I feel like that is what is trying to get out but is muffled by the opening stanza's bold declaration. I think it would help to tone down the heavy-handedness that John mentions.

I wonder, too, about repeating "gasping" so close to each other. (YPOu could just grab the bull by the horns and go for something quasi-onomatopoeic like,

As if gasping gasping gasping were breathing.


.

[Perry Miller]

I'm in the process of getting my 15 critiques, so I am looking for poems I can relate to.

First, it isn't clear to me who the speaker is in the poem, the "I". That's my problem with the first strophe.

In the second strophe, I don't understand any situation in which fish throw themselves onto the deck of a boat -- but that is obviously something that must happen in nature, otherwise you wouldn't be writing about it. For those of us who don't go out on the water often (or ever), you might provide some background information about this phenomenon.

As for what John said about the poem being "heavy-handed", I'm not sure what he means.

Whatever the poem means, I like that you are speaking in a normal, somewhat prosaic voice about a real thing that occurs (this does occur in reality, right?).

I notice that you haven't followed up with a comment to the first three critiques. I'd love to hear your responses to what's been said so far.

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, annie—

I like the strong personality of the speaker and the take-no-prisoners tone.
The only problem I have is that the “ship of state” is such a venerable trope that it carries with it an entourage of expected associations. Your two choices are to lean into these associations or to subvert and deconstruct them, but your intent ought to be made clear in such a polemic poem..

I’m willing to buy a bunch of fish throwing themselves onto the deck of the ship, but I’m a bit fuzzy on how to interpret them. Do they represent a confused and dispirited constituency of voters who are simply giving up and letting the ship of state have its way with them? Are they desperate immigrants who are trying to seek a better life in our state? Are they victims of global warming and pollution who are trying to flee an ocean that our human activity has rendered uninhabitable? I need a bit more guidance.

Glenn

[Perry Miller]

Ah, now I feel embarrassed. Glenn figured out what's going on in the poem, while it completely eluded me. I don't usually write in metaphors, which is part of the problem. I can also be more than a little dense. Still, I would have handled this metaphor a little differently.