Thursday, March 4, 2010

the poles of tomorrow

outstanding, henry!
        bounty and plenty
what are they biting on today?

the other end of my line---
just a hook and hungering
         suspense my feed
and the ole couldn't care less
simple yawn before the growl
           and wasteful demand
           to be seen unique---
priceless that, almost,
second, perhaps only, to the need
           just to be seen
keep 'em deep and let 'em run
the whole gamut of their lives
from egg to egg,
           discern nothing
but let out the line
nibble, no, nibble, nice try---
get 'em hooked merely by
the ole the fishy number one routine,
           and bow,
for this river blue that sea green
and how many times, angry,
they tried to bite
on nothing! that part,
           gets me everytime,
just the flash of my art,
the song of my hook in their water

yes---they drop eggs, i hope, for a daughter
and by the time they see me,
their breath, the bait

fishy, fishy---for you, i wait.

pour me out
     another glass of wine
another season has come

and you, harry
       bounty and plenty?

naw me, henry, i'm still prime,
i feel the hook, i reason its sway---
here's a one-two ticker,
there's a three-four count

deal me in, pour me out---
each year at this i get bolder,
who holds judgment their season is over,
i'm not in it for the fishy, henry

i lust toward their doubt
beyond the first eight seconds
       their thoughts phase out,         
i'm the finger snapper
       ding, ding the bout---

how tender their popular mind,
how like the poplar tree---
    its way in the breeze
and how the breeze can be
too gentle sometimes
    lull lull lull  reap!

there is no real place for me
but where that hook goes
    where it goes, ideal,
i don't need to see it---
to pacify myself
                i know it
    and so it is
and so it is
            and so it is

i would be fine to live only
in that moment right before
     they impale themselves,
that moment you know the future
because you cast it with promotion---
this your river, that my ocean,
and the line needs never be heavy,
for hook their heaven,
and they ever undeserving

it never gets old
   they renew, like the stream
               they renew
god bless this thing we do

get some rest, hal
        bounty and plenty
for you, tomorrow----

         henry, too bright!
you're pole is tomorrow,
         leave me tonight.

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