Whitebait by Frida Bird

Whitebait

Just look at all them birds and we’re
 just gawpin like some bunch of bums.
 ‘It’s whitebait,’ says some man and leers,
 
like we don’t know what’s happenin here.
All that squawkin, all them whinin gulls;
It’s like they don’t know they’re flyin
up there just helterskelterin.
Just look at em,
all them birds and we’re,
just sinkin in the sand down here;
just peerin up like we was kids.

‘It’s whitebait,’ says some man and leers.

Like how’s he know?
That flat look of his can’t peer beneath,
them waves - that chewed up spit.
It'd drown him dead before he’d see
any fish flyin about that spinnin mess.
We’re lookin at all them birds, but we’re,
stuck listenin to this old man stamp,
like he was god and we was dumb.

‘It’s whitebait,’ says some man and leers.

And we tell him, ‘We know its fish
Stop spoutin on, we know alright.
But listen,
don’t it make you feel good?
Wouldn’t you rather gasp inside, 
not shrug it off and stamp it flat?’

‘It's whitebait,’ says some man and leers.

And I’m seein him, holdin on,
like he’s gone and done and,
nailed himself to the earth.
Just look at all them birds and I’m,
just feelin bad for him, I guess.

‘It's whitebait,’ says some man and leers.