The origin of species

New Haven fishermen

look for oysters and other species

at the falling tide.

I hang out with Bob

I help him with the nets

because of his metallic arm.

My father wanted me to be a doctor, Bob,

I tell him,

I collect insects 

and name them,

since I was six years old.

Bob spits snuff to the sea,

he doesn't answer,

he looks straight to me,

salt covered eyebrows,

there are lessful days.