Poem of the Week - 'Lovers Angling' by Wioletta Greg
Drunks spreading themselves along the pier.
A girl impaling a worm on a hook
with the help of swear-words.
A lad toying with a reel,
slowly raising and lowering the bail.
Charcoal aroma set over the dock.
Blue fishing lines pulsating.
It is almost night, and yet I can still see
their lures swaying in the depths.
A oddly picturesque poem carefully constructed in a way to reveal much more beyond its initial reading. From the Polish poet Wioletta Greg, wonderfully translated by Marek Kazimierski, in Greg's collection Finite Formulae & Theories of Chance.