Sharks and Barracudas always take the bait

she opened and closed
her mouth, a fish
out of water, gasping
for the air of life….
the angler deftly
chummed the moment:

“I did not do what
you wanted, because,
I did not want to do it!”

a ripple on the placid surface
of mental juxtaposition,
chanced dead reckoning
into an attitudinal tidal wave,
a fornication of latitude,
the belaying pin clubbing of
a constipated personal dilemma,
hooked, gutted, cleaned, and,
oh so… delicious to devour,
verbal sake soaked sashimi,
commented and parsed
on a sinker leaded  line….
a dysfunctional relationship
cast into the depths, it is
a soon to be swallowed
dangling morsel of raw fleshy

©2012, Donald Harbour

4 thoughts on “Fishing

  1. the angler deftly
    chummed the moment:

    Anyone who can work “chum” into a poem that well deserves applause. And the first thing I thought when i saw your header was AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I WANT IT! That is awesome.


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