Casting chicken liver off the levee
tap and pull, rod starts bouncing
set the hook, and reel it in
all its fins and tail a'flouncing.

Costa sunglasses cut the glare
of the green rippled lake light,
three baited lines in the water,
patience, ready for another bite.

Waiting, waiting in the sun
as mosquitos buzz around me,
a slight breeze blowing from the west
they say its when the fish bite best.

Water snakes, colored orange and black
float upon cattail rafts, soaking heat,
ignore the splashing of my cast,
one of my lines goes suddenly slack.

**** the rod, the fight is on!
Catfish tugging toward the bottom,
he so enjoyed my ****** bait,
my fillet knife, though is his fate.

Channel, blue or flathead
whatever fish will try;
will be swiftly cleaned
and served deep fried.

Filleted and battered thick with beer
the oil is bubbling and smoking hot,
hear the sizzle as they fry up crisp,
fill my plate straight from the ***.