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I Am The Son Of Fishermen

I am the son of fishermen,
Gnarl-fisted men of the sea,
Who throw their garbage overboard
And stand on the poop to pee.

I am descended of fishermen,
Who lie in the merciless deep;
Could be that they fell overboard
While drunk or half-asleep.

I am no more a fisherman,
They took my boat away!
They think the world is safer- HA!
I bought a plane today!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2010
About this poem:
I wrote this when I was working on fish packers on the Left Coast.

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Comments (2)

Thankyou GS, really liked the humour in this one, welcome to Poets Corner........Andrew.
Thanks, Andrew! I like to make people laugh. Makes us live longer, from what the experts tell us.

When I've got some time, I'm going to do some reading instead of just posting . . .
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on Sep 2010
in Humor
in Prose
Last Viewed: Oct 11
Last Commented: Sep 2010

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