FISH ON FRIDAY

To be from an island where, once, eating meat on Fridays
was a transgression and to not eat fish was downright willful:

Every Friday, on the way home after the usual blood tests
in Temple Street Hospital, Ma would ask, Would you not try

a bit of fish, Pet? Daddy bought some lovely fresh cod
off the boat in Howth. She’d try hook me with a sweet treat bribe.

As the stinky fish fried on the pan, I gagged as if a scale bone
was still caught in my throat.