casting casting reel it in worm's gone unwrap another one from the damp newspaper lying [i'm always lying down between my teeth] on the pebbles [on knives on my life walking swearing] flat worm soft ridges hook through soft body it continues to wriggle half dead is not dead can't see out of the back of my head flick cast [aside] watch it plop into the sea fiddle a bit re-engage reel lock simon's laughing his mom comes down with their pointers barking barking [mad] 'when the boats come left' he tells me 'it means the tide's turning, and then the mackerel swim' i think of orange skies smeared like guts [and knives always knives] simon laughs again i can't freak him out 'your go' he calls over expertise 'standing in the door of the pink flamingo ...' i'm still seeing makerel skies 'crying in the rain' we both start singing 'it was a kind of so so love and i'm gonna make sure it never happens again you and i it had to be the standing joke of the year you were a sleep around a lost and found and not for me i fear' he unhooks the fish from the metal in its cheek and throws it back 'too small' i know how that fish feels.
