he had fishing out on his boat.
what a fight one fish
put up, he said, as he reeled it in.
he smiled proudly as he
described the epic battle
in embellished detail.
he was a large man with a beard.
strong as an ox.
the fish was two pounds
and had a hook lodged into
his stiffened lips.
i said nothing, as he showed
me the limp fish in his
cooler, opened eyed and
cold lying next to a can of beer.
are you going to eat it,
or hang it on a wall? i asked him.
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