he wanted to go fishing…all he ever talked about…perfectly content with a pole in his hands…casting out onto a clear lake…found peace in this ritual…said it helped his state of mind…calmed the voices in his head…calmed the voices in his head…

this old man…father of five…now sat in a nursing home talking of fishing…telling tales of canoe trips down a river in Arkansas…rod between his legs…both hands on an oar…paddeling and casting…all day long…all day long…

said he remembered one fishing trip when he didn’t catch anything…not a single fish…tried everything…raw bacon…minows…pieces of bologna…just weren’t biting…just weren’t biting…they never did…don’t think the old man ever caught a fish…not that i recall…not that i recall…

he wanted to go fishing…all he ever talked about…