Slow Nights in the Bass Boat
Some nights when the fishing slows,
when the stripers
and hybrids drift through the cove like elusive thoughts,
you crank in the jig, prop the rod in the boat.
Revenge
My problem is I don’t want it, even on my ex who
flung the wicker lid of a laundry hamper after me
the night I said Now you’ve made it easy, and left.
