Hour Three

Write a poem about fishing. It doesn’t matter if you have never been fishing before. The poem must contain at least three lines that involve fishing. Everything else is up to you.

fishing for reason in
a cesspool of lunacy.
My line has been laying
atop still, foamy water—
stagnant—in fact it is rotting from the contact.
At the end of the line, no hook.
No hook.
Only another rod. Another fisher.
Another somebody waiting to catch
a trophy. Or a meal. Or a pet.
fishing is for patient folk—
the likes of which I am not.
So I’ll pack up and take to swimming.
maybe I’ll have better luck with my hands?

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