Catchya a Carp

Never actually do.
Stupid lily pad's
stupid. xxxxxxOr
the accuracy in
the baiting. What
of it--worms and
creamed kernels
of corn musked by
all the tackle's plastic
xxxxxxxxflies off
the hook's anyhow.
But I forget I'm sick
xxxxxof fishing. And I
forget I'm always sick
xxxxxxxxxxxxxfishing.
Of what--we are grateful
for life? A snap
(save) of the swivel
(me)--damn
bass stole the hard
hope of inadequate
tess. All's control,
supposing to be my
Canada, is minimal.
Supposing to be my own
great luff--a following
of an other's will.
The world allows us
to move: the catching of
a whale
xxxxxxin a lake. The fight
of it--but look! Two
red lighters on the floor
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxover there.