The fishing day out

The damn body! always needs to be touched.
Skin, one big exposed nerve, the air hurting it.

I'm in an oven, or the Antarctic. I have no control 

Over destinations. I could never prescribe to them.

I want to always be moving. I'm in need of hearing 

Quiet on Baynes Street. 

Further along the peninsula is a better beach 

With a park. Jealous I don't live there I get on a bus.

There are better trees than ours and the water, 

Less flat. It sounds pretentious to me that 

I remember even the grass looks greener. 

I'm not really on the other side just nearer 

To where there is a jetty to fish off of. 

I take a friend and I show him how to use the 

   sinkers.

We make use of the good weather. I should come 

More often, I really shouldn't bitch about nothing.

But the friend is gone now and I don't get out as

   much.

We never caught one fish between us.