Regarding the Salmon Cannon
Mass Transit For Salmon – The Big Fish Gun
Traveling anywhere can be a misery
when you’re a waterbound salmon
Cause railcars and airplanes, velocipedes, motorbikes;
none of these make up the canon
Of possible ways for your family and friends
to conduct horizonal expansion
Just rivers, upstream, can your next of kin teem,
through a limited excerpt of canyons
Imagine what’d happen if the river went dry;
it’d be nothing short of a famine.
To be born a fish, would be nobody’s wish,
a poor choice you might reëxamine
Good thing scientists, with their infinite gifts,
have produced a new lift of compassion:
Stuck downstream? Don’t fear. They’ll pick up your rear,
and fire you, dear, from a cannon.
And tubeward you’ll soar, some minutes and more,
Some suction and noise your companion
Till, at hose’s end, up and over again,
You’ll flip — I know I did — and then some.
It used to be woeful to be born a fish;
Of traveling choices, you had none.
Those days are now done, fishers finally have guns,
More than ever, fish, there’s nowhere you can run.
Originally published by Little Epic — Subscribe for free!
