hooks

From the old wooden dock

I flung my rod

Deep into the ocean.

 

The reel flying in the air

Made a horizon with the seagull

With the hook pulling me down

I could feel my catch

 

fish got caught

the sharp hooks

tearing its gills apart

 

the blood leaking  from the fish

stained the brown wooden boards

 

“It looks disguting”

And the fisherman carried his stuff

And left.

 

 

 

 

 

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