#6: What the Fish Don't Know

Fishing from the fish's point of view is much different then the human's. Could you imagine biting in to a juicy hamburger and then getting your mouth caught on a barbed hook? The hook then pulls you up in to the air where a mysterious animal proceeds to cook you and eat you? I have; its in the poem below.

Hunger, hunger, I need to be fed

I eat and I eat, or else I’ll be dead

Where is my next meal, where is my next fly

I better find my next meal, or else I might die

I swim in the calm, I swim in the storm

I swim to find sustenance, I swim for the worm

Hunger, hunger, my belly, it aches,

I’m hungry, I’m hungry, survival at stake

My eye spots a sparkle, on this calm winters day

It’s the flutter of wings, on the surface of the lake

I swim to the spot, so I can have my lunch

But this fly looks sorta funny, its wings in a bunch

I take a big bite but made a mistake

This was not a fly, but merely bait

I was caught by my mouth on a shiny little string

It was quite uncomfortable, quite a painful thing

The string pulled me up as I struggled and gasped

I guess this is it, this meals my last

At the end of the string was a surly old man

He held the shiny string tight in his hand

He set me down on the ground of his boat

Then he hit me with a hammer, across my throat

Hungry, he’s hungry, he needs to be fed

He eats, he eats, or else he’ll be dead

He looks at his pan, quite a sizzling dish

Magnificent dinner, magnificent fish.