ALMOST EATEN…thankfully I found I could fly…

(absolutely not a poem, what it is I can’t say for sure…)

Was high while fishing and sailing once,

Fortunately I was stopped, so must have been fishing,

Or maybe it was fiddling, I don’ know,

Suffice it to say I was stopped, anchored, drunk, & high,

A dangerous & quite volatile combination,

But not for me, I was all alone, ceptin’ for Rufuz…

Anyway I was dancing around the salon and stern deck area,

To the music of some club in whatever town I was anchored off of,

Anyway, I was dancing and went out to the deck and hit some water,

Lot of that around in the ocean so hard to keep deck dry,

Slipped and fell towards the ocean,

And just at that split second a fish with murder on its eye,

Jumped up with its mouth wide open, teeth gleaming,

His dentist should be proud…

So, did I ever tell you that I could FLY!

Right back on the deck and back into the salon,

Locking the door, finishing the bottle, one last hit,

Before I sell this boat and get something bigger,

Can’t be havein’ them fishies jumping into the boat…

(What do you want from me, I said it was a fantasy/reality poem/story…I didn’t? [Sorry, well I meant it]

Okay, the whole story was reality or real except for the…

Lets see now, okay, so my boat was really small, not big enough for a salon, couldn’t stand up in the cuddy, unless you stuck your hear through the ceiling, there was a hole, NO WISE GUY, I DIDN’T PUT IT THERE WITH MY HEAD! What a schmutz, LOL!

And I was not dancing, I was kinda just standing there fighting with this little stinkin’fish on my line

He was not jumping in the boat, I would have really given my balls, well I would have to think about it first, to have had this fish just jump in the boat,

He was clearly not a happy fish he certainly had murder in his eye, or it might have been the fact that he also got caught up on something in the water, kinda the fish version of being between an irate fisherman, hunger in his eyes, & the little woman waiting for him to come back and stop playing with his fisherman buddies, or a rock and hard place, if your thick,

NOT exactly fly, well he jumped in the boat eventually, just as I was giving my one last pull, he and landed in a bear hug position, geez did he have shit breathe,

So I didn’t get something bigger, what point is that?

EVERY THING ELSE WAS REALITY, WAS THERE ANYMORE…? Oh, yeah, Rufuz wasn’t actually there,  he was not a boating dog at that time, he would jump in and make like he was ready to go and enjoy himself, but as soon as the first wave hit us, he was in the cuddy, hiding, whining, crying and generally shaking…must have been a cat in a former life, pussie…

                                                                                                                                (ed) © copywite 2004