Nine fish, ten fish, wild fish, pen fish.
This one spawned up in the streams,
This one has potato genes,
My, what a lot of fish… or so it seems.
Yes, some are farmed and some are free,
But there’s no difference, can’t you see?
All have tails
All have scales
But lots are large, infertile males.
From sea to hills,
From hills to sea,
Money undoes policy.
&
This one, I think, really stinks.
And that strange color makes me blink.
That funny pink
I think it’s ink!
I think it stinks of blink - pink ink.
SO…
If your fish isn’t adequately pink,
And all your customers start to think…
Just shoot it with pink ink
Wink, wink.
&
Who am I? My name’s Hezzert
My farm sits in a desert.
This land was dry, too dry to grow
But they plugged the river
And up here it flowed
No, it’s not been that long past…
Well, I couldn’t say, Why do you ask?
&
Here are some who like to throw
They throw out nets the way they know
They know how to throw from long ago
What will they do when the fish don’t show?
I do not know. I do not know.
&
Hey there Hezzert, What is new?
Tell me what you plan to do.
How is life in your desert place,
that normally arid, now wet space.
Things have really turned around.
Since that judge rolled into town
The ESA will not apply
No matter if the Coho die.
&
My pen’s a sewer
My drugs are pure
That holey net
Is such a lure
My wild cousins
Are far fewer
//////////////
My wild cousins
Are far fewer
That holey net
Is such a lure
My pen’s a sewer
My drugs are pure
I will get out,
you must be sure
&
Swish, swish, swish.
I am a fish
I am tasty on a dish.
I swish as a fish from sea to dish
But there is one thing I really wish.
To swish as a fish, free as I wish, up the sacred Snohomish.
Blatant plagiarism; so sue me.
Contrary to rumors running rampant, I am not dead. Merely suddenly temporarily unavoidably unemployed and since Russ doesn’t share the monthly royalty or merchandising checks, job-hunting and holding up liquor stores come first and second, respectively.
More when I can,
Froz Gobo
Glad to see you post. Good luck with the job hunting and larceny.
Posted by: Mitch Mills at February 26, 2005 03:16 PMThe coolest poem ever:
My hat is old
My teeth are gold
I have a fish I like to hold
My shoe is off
My foot is cold.
That should be "I have a bird I like to hold". Got all confused with all this fish talk.
Posted by: platosearwax at February 28, 2005 10:39 AM