Tuna

Tuna you are the mirror of the blue
Tuna you are the pain in my veins
Tuna you are lord.

When I set out to catch you
I am a prisoner of taboos.
“Don’t dangle legs over the side of the canoe.”
“Don’t whistle for merriment.”
“Is your thought straight?”
“Is your wife having her first pregnancy?”
“Are you newly married?”
All this awkwardness is my duty.

But on the market you are the sun.
You darken the eye of the inland man
when he offers plenty in exchange
without bargain — just to get you.

You are worth the pain in my veins.