I’ve always wondered why I have a cluttered mind that keeps my tongue supplied. I strive to pull in yummy stuff to fine dine at supper time, then dunk it under brine for just a while. It’s such a grind to find and soak to smoke em combined with a love to rhyme. I got a bunch of lines. My mouth is like an open bail. You couldn’t see as many bars on (lock/loch) if you were thrown in jail. I want to catch a marlin cuz it’s larger than a sword or sail. Hopefully over scale with the weight and length of it from nose to tail. Who knows the tale of Moby Dick? An enormous whale that’s white. My goal is getting something close to it without destroying the ship. I was born to hit a lake or ocean with a pole equipped and put the stick to bigger coastal fish on that remora tip. Doing all of this to feel a fight seems silly. I’d reel in a killer orca then free Willy. I really need a motorboat with four 350s. That’s better than going “motorboat sound” between titties.


Here fishy fishy.
Checking off the list, I don’t kill the species that could feed me unless I’m planning on eating em.
Here fishy fishy.
It’s not a slaughter If I already got a freezer full of meat cuz I’m definitely releasing em.
Here fishy fishy.
My second home’s the water since It’s no sweat to get your toes wet and cast like a throne net. I’ve got so many more left I hope to catch before my own death. Not in the zone yet, collecting the whole set.


It’s a struggle every day to resist calling the boss and simply say that I’m sick to pay a visit to the launch. Tossing a lure at any slab that I come across. I’ve even fished with a piece of paper clip and dental floss. One out of 10’s a loss. They throw a hook and they don’t get cooked. My life is an open book, grubbing on oven roasted snook. A trolling motor’s good for holding position over a nook on flowing rivers, watching the rod tip until I’m too old to look. As a senior citizen and a seasoned fisherman, I’ll be in the Pacific instead of icy conditions when the season is winter or where the scenery’s equivalent. I’m (seeing seas/CNCs) more than some machinery or Gilligan. I’ll be living near a bay seeking pray. Some times I completely slay while rhyming. Things are getting (reeled today/real today). On occasion they just keep away and appear to fear the bait. When they aren’t feeling great enough to feed, I’m hearing people say.


Here fishy fishy.
Checking off the list, I don’t kill the species that could feed me unless I’m planning on eating em.
Here fishy fishy.
It’s not a slaughter If I already got a freezer full of meat cuz I’m definitely releasing em.
Here fishy fishy.
My second home’s the water since It’s no sweat to get your toes wet and cast like a throne net. I’ve got so many more left I hope to catch before my own death. Not in the zone yet, collecting the whole set.