Going cross eyes staring at the bobbing orange buoy
With wriggling squirming worm submerged under the placid water
Toking on my tobacco pipe to keep the pestering mosquitoes hanging out
With all their buzzing buddies
My tongue tastes of nicotine from the constant puff-puff
Indian smoke signals under the overbearing sky
Threatening me with hanging rain on the mountain top
Clouds rolling on the peaks with laughter watching me
Slap myself in the face and shouting at the bugs
“How long does this shit last!
“a god damned minute?”
Grabbing up the bug spray and shaking my fist
At its incompetence but still spraying liberally all about my face
The fish mock me in the fishing hole
Jumping in acrobatics to tease me to know that there they are
But don’t fancy my little drowning worm skewered to its
Bent crucifix being martyred for having done nothing but live
Teaching his wormy ways to all the other worms.
Another ripple in the water with elongating circles
Around mr. fishy’s nose leaping like a dolphin –such an over-eager show
Of how dismal a fisherman I am.
Knocking my hot strong coffee over
And spilling it over the moss-atired rock upon which I sit
And a get a soaked derriere of coffee pot goodness
It all seems so unfair to sit here for many the hour
In my ridiculously netted hat upon my sucker bitten head
All the flying hazards eating me up for their greedy supper
What is the point of all this suffering?
That uno solitary bite, that tug on the line of one stupid fishy
Too greedy to wait for the flies, the glint of wormy
In his little fishy eye just too much too resist.
And all the rain, pain can go away
I’ll see you next Tuesday for the fish gods will shine on
This little fishing hole of mine.
But for now at least it seems that the little fishy classrooms
Have taught the young-uns about suspicious
Lines and floating neon bullets on the surface
And the mosquito classrooms have taught their young-uns not to fear
The smell of the human cologne they spray around their eyes
Because it is all just lies. The lines, the worms, the hooks, the sprays
And all the beautiful animals are getting too smart for the bumbling humans
Stomping in their boots trying to outsmart mother nature.