Cast it, cast it onto the wind -
Let the fly float on the stream
Down to the pool
Where the trout
With surly look and vacant eye
Waits,
Mirroring his contempt
In a glassy vacancy.
Then in a sudden flash
Of power and appetite,
The hook
Pulled
Fast
Into the upper lip.

We have you
Caught and we will not let you go.
We'll draw you in like a beached whale
And let you rot in our applause.