FISH TALE

When I was a lad I was taught by my Dad the necessities of life among men,

How to get fish to bite, haul ‘em in day and night, and how to make the truth more interestin’.

I’d heard all his yarns about fish big as barns and the big one that still got away,

So I told him my story of fisherman’s glory to leave him with nothing to say.

“Should’a been there yesterday, Daddy”, I said, “I did pretty good from the shore.

With my favorite pole, I had set as a goal to land a hundred pounder or more.

A winch was my reel filled with cable of steel and the hook I had made from an anchor,

My rod was a crane that could lift a freight train, I got it from off an old tanker.

I was wearing my wife’s stiletto high heels, the ones with the ruby red tips,

So down on the bank to the hilt they did sank so my feet had immoveable grips.

I used a dumptruck for a sinker, a houseboat for a bobber, and a whole Holstein for bait,

Then made a mighty cast, and held on fast, and settled in for the wait.

‘Twas not long coming for my reel started humming, and a Big Fish my bait it took,

I leaned back on my feet, my high heels dug in deep, and I reared back and set the hook.

Then on was the fight, forty days and forty nights the fish and I waged our watery war,

Up the coast and down, the monster dragged me round and round,

My high heels plowing up the shore

‘Til finally it went that its great strength was spent and I pulled him up close to the land,

But the fish was so large, twice the size of a barge, I couldn’t get him up onto the sand.

Well I pulled out my knife, but thought to spare the life of my adversary of so many rounds,

So I cut from its side six feet long, three feet wide, a nice filet of about a hundred pounds.

The fish was sad to be beaten but glad not to be eaten, my noble giant of the sea,

I said “Thanks for the fight and for dinner tonight”, then I cut the line and set him free.

“So Daddy”, I said, “whatcha think about that, now that my fish tale is done?

Some may think I’m lyin’, and there’s no denying that I am my father’s own son.

My Daddy said, “Son, that’s a mighty fine tale, one of the best that I’ve ever heard,

And I’m telling you now and right to your face that I believe every word!

For just last night I also went down to the shore for to do me some fishin’,

And I caught me some fine ones, among which I spied one that had about a hundred pounds missin’.

I hung my head and walked away with nary a backward glance,

For it’s still as it’s been in my clan among the men,

The first liar doesn’t stand a chance.

For my Daddy,

From John

February, 2010