cars rattling by, dust and dirt settling

upon our high, black rubber boots

nodding off in the sun, those cattails with

brown velvet bodies bobbing bumping an audience

waking and whispering, intimacy spreading like a ripple

we are baiting our hooks

"for crying–why’d you pick them so damn scrawny?"

the weight of stones in my stomach

frogs escaping their bodies, dropping into the water

plunk, a sharply plucked string

"please, will you show us the quickest route into mud?"

but he made me

and how could I tell him, my father

about that bearded man in the bait shop

"well, he stood high above me, wiggling his finger

a shadow on the wall, hissing

and oh, at the counter how he made me jump

for your change

high, higher (I, the ass he, the carrot)

outside, sitting in the car, dad, you finished another cigarette"

while waiting for a bite, dad told me

I could not have a puppy, we could not afford it

was it an accident, when I crushed that worm

between my fingers, stretched him like an elastic until

he split in two?

I could not imagine his pain, our disappointment tangled

together, hiding somewhere in the weeds

to think so much could happen, all

within the same day

to know he could not give me everything

not even what we we both wanted

I caught one rainbow, slick with life

suspended on a string, scales catching light

like a mirror

searching for reflection

he told me, not the usual catch

the hook swallowed, shank, bend and point

had to be torn

from the inside, out came

heart liver spleen a mess of innards

jiggling about

"she’s messier than most"

the small, hollow body which followed me home that afternoon

where for days, she drifted about in a bowl, the water turning oily oily

and I could not leave her side, until, he said "enough"