Elizabeth Bishop-The Fish

Elizabeth - Elizabeth BishopThe Fish I caught a tremendous fish and held him beside the boat half out of water with my hook fast in a corner of its

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Elizabeth Bishop- The Fish I caught a tremendous fish and held him beside the boat half out of water, with my hook fast in a corner of its mouth. He didn’t fight. He hadn’t fought at all. He hung a grunting weight, battered and venerable and homely. Here and there his brown skin hung in strips like ancient wallpaper, and its pattern of darker brown was like wallpaper: shapes like full-blown roses stained and lost through age. He was speckled with barnacles, fine rosettes of lime, and infested with tiny white sea-lice, and underneath two or three rags of green weed hung down. While his gills were breathing in the terrible oxygen — the frightening gills, fresh and crisp with blood, that can cut so badly — I thought of the coarse white flesh packed in like feathers, the big bones and the little bones, the dramatic reds and blacks of his shiny entrails, and the pink swim-bladder like a big peony. I looked into his eyes
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This note was uploaded on 08/21/2011 for the course ENG 289 taught by Professor Nicgowan during the Spring '11 term at N.C. State.

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Elizabeth - Elizabeth BishopThe Fish I caught a tremendous fish and held him beside the boat half out of water with my hook fast in a corner of its

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