An old man sits
elbows to knees,
hunched over a thin bamboo pole.
His dilapidated cardboard box chair
sags,
threatening at any moment
to show him the sea,
feet first.
The sun's thin orange arc,
all that remains of the day,
casts feebly
across the harbor
before easing down
into the cover of twilight treetops.
And the old man curses,
"jesus!" he spits at the dark water.
"Where's the goddam fish?!"
No answer.
Another day,
another three dollars of bait.
Empty hook, empty creel,
nothing to show.
"Goddam crabs!" he pulls,
"goddam bait thieves takin' my money!"
"jesus!"
A contest entry
- jesus fish, oh jesus fish..... by vaguelyfamiliar.
900 points, ended October 29, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
go ahead...
Comments
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I enjoy the colloquial feel of this. It's a little melancholy, too. I can see the man, quite clearly, and I wonder what he's thinking about Jesus.
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