Fish Hooks

There were so many,
dangling above the sidewalk
and swinging in the breeze
like wind chimes.
A filet mignon hung from one,
flirtatious. I sidestepped it, quickly
moved on, but was shocked
to see pedestrians on all sides
biting on bait and getting
reeled into the sky where
they vanished near passing jetliners.
Businessmen, drug dealers,
pregnant housewives all gone,
just like that!
I reached the end of the block,
but couldn’t resist: I bit,
passed out around the time
the spire of the Empire State
swished past, then far below
along with the rest of this city
that I have grown to love and hate.
Don’t remember much after that.
When I came to, I was on the sidewalk,
at the corner of 11th and Broadway,
humiliated, rejected, unsure why
I had been cast back into this world.
Was I too small? Too sensitive?
I looked at the sky,
wondering what was up there.