Fishing Hole

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.

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