Classic Poem

What's the matter here?
What happened?
This color of the tide.
This red, lukewarm, dirty, poisonous juice.
All around,
corpses of fish gone soft.
Rolling them in,
not knowing what to do with them,
thudding, thudding heavily,
dog day waves wash the windless, burning sand beach all day.
— Come, do something with them, do something!
the sea cries out.
The scarlet sea choked with muddy heavy oil and factory discharge.
The clouds that melt
like the fume from fuming sulfuric acid.