Each and every time I see the ripples
feel the splash
I bet 100 fry the dry ones are at sport
Fools on stilts
their props work on me no more.
Rainbow feathers
knots on string
no longer pierce me with their sting
they took my father,
mother
brother
And still they try for me.
In shallow depths I listen to their talk
Of Polaroids and Panamas
rear drag and the tying of flies
of earthworms and maggots
Breadcrumbs,
Groundbait,
the right time to strike
the list goes on.
The spots they choose to cast their deadly threads
so fucking predictable now.
The names they label to my favorite haunts :
"Bessies Dam!"
"The Ganders Neck!"
"That's where the beauties lie!"
Silly slivers of so called knowledge.
To speak of the friends I've lost to those vultures
Of how I've watched their spotted tails thrash
gills swollen and flaking scales
they paid no heed to the flapping of my fins
my mad red flag
and they took the bite well and good
we speak through ripples
deep sea mono hums
it pains me that they failed to pay attention.
To speak the truth I must admit that once
I made the same mistake
Plump bloodworm
could have sworn it was threadbare
two bites
goodbye
farewell my precious eye.
The tension on the string
it wore me out
and quicky
there I was upon the rocks
somersaults in suffocation
a furnace blast from the stone
that promised to be my tomb
in that tomb I felt I'd surely be
then string magician throws me to the sea
my gills did breathe and sigh relief
the lucky and the few.
Blind in one eye
I still see
my gills inhale
my thoughts turn to revenge
served cold and helped by very fine champagne
family and freinds long gone
i'm ready for the fillet factory
for I know it exists
the dry ones speak of it often.
Many tides have turned and now my bones are sharp and deadly
courtesy of the dry ones groundbait con.
Be it feather
worm or
salted shrimp
i won't resist
i'll play their game
hook line and sinker swallowed whole
i'll be the bait
inside their bowl
their puckered lips shall savour my insides
as they slide
deep
inside
their greedy gullets
warm and wet
i am the fish they won't forget
with backbone lodged firm in the throat
i hope it hurts
i hope they choke.
[/i]
SUICIDE SUSHI
cheers
glad ye thought it was okay. and you're right about that vulture line, pile of shite really, ha ha ha!
- linda_lakeside
- Posts: 3857
- Joined: Mon Sep 13, 2004 3:08 pm
- Location: By the sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea..