SARAH CAREY

Lionfish Hunter

To kill a lionfish in the Western Atlantic
is to save a snapper, grouper, someone's legitimate dinner.
Is to manage the species’ insatiable appetite,
rare as sashimi. Is to mitigate an unfolding tragedy.
Is to right reef life’s equilibrium.
Is to gut red-white striped bodies, hunger's fire,
venomous spines within fins. Is to thwart
the dark heart lurking where it doesn't belong.
Is to murder without limits on sex or season,
grin satisfaction with each conquest.
Is to do it for money. Is to brave the toxins of your get,
spike after spike in the Mohawk.
Is to take one for the team. Is to imagine yourself
apex predator, dismembering helpless prey.
Is to protect yourself from yourself.
Is to relish each bloodletting, ventricle to atria.
Is to hope that just once, the consummation of your desire
could be permanent, keep invasion at bay.
Would feed you over and over.

Sarah Carey is a graduate of the Florida State University creative writing program. Her poems have appeared recently or are forthcoming in Five Points, Florida Review, Zone 3, Redivider, River Heron Review, Split Rock Review, Atlanta Review and elsewhere. She is also a previous contributor to Stirring: A Literary Review, and is delighted to be back with additional work. Her book reviews have appeared recently in Salamander, EcoTheo Review, Tinderbox Poetry Journal and the Los Angeles Review. Sarah's poems have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and the Orison Anthology. She is the author of two poetry chapbooks, including Accommodations (2019), winner of the Concrete Wolf Chapbook Award. Visit her at SarahKCarey.com  as well as on Twitter @SayCarey1, on Insta @skcarey1 and now also on Post @SayCarey1.