From Nerve Cowboy #19 , Spring 2005

FISH SHACK

Oh my God, I graduate in three days, and my only offer is at Fish Shack.

-from the L.A. Times Job Jubilee

 

Its name would suit a crumbling bait shop

where herring fester in the heat-that,

or a poor man's Sea World: minnows in bilge;

a toenail clipper labeled "Great White Shark."

Shrimp King's dumpster is Spago by comparison.

Salmonella is the Catch of Every Day.

 

My crowd, who dine at Monkfish Cathedral,

Swordfish Castle, The Palace of Chilean Sea Bass,

fear Fish Shack more than being fifty.

"Eat your zucchini," we warn our kids,

"or we'll get takeout from Fish Shack."

"Study hard, or you'll be flipping fillets there."

 

When Swizzlin' Slim boots Shufflin' Dan

off of Skid Row, Fish Shack welcomes him.

Your cousin's son, after years as a Neo-Nazi

street-hustling junkie, lands a job cleaning toilets

at a fast food restaurant. "See? There's hope,"

you say. "Unless it's Fish Shack . . ."

 

 

Charles Harper Webb

Glendale, CA