Transatlantic Cable 11 – Hooking the Cable
We’re fishing with hooks
For a monster eel –
He’s somewhere around here, we know.
We’ll scrape in each nook
And each crevice with steel,
To catch us a live one below.
We’re plumbing the depth
With our long-corded prong
To land him right out of the wet.
He’s only a thumbs-width,
But boy, is he long.
We’ll fetch him up here with us yet.
He isn’t so slippy
When grabbed by his tail –
We know where he’s likely to lay.
His head may be whippy,
His body may flail,
But he won’t be wriggling away.
So surface our booty,
Our highly-prized freight,
More precious than gold by the ton –
So haul up our beauty,
And haul up his mate,
And splice them together as one.
