I like to eat real pink raw fish.
I’ll put one on my little dish.

I’ll stroke the tiny, delicate fin.
The little eyes will make me grin.

I’ll lay it on its scaly side.
Then I’ll remove the fishy hide.

I’ll take a long and wistful look
at what came off that sharp fish hook.

I’ll pat the little fishy tummy
and know that it will taste just yummy.

Then I’ll de-bone without delay
to make the perfect fish fillet.

I’ll sniff a final long deep smell
to check that everything is well.

“It’s time to eat you, little fella.
Please don’t give me salmonella.”