Miles upon miles of irrigation ditches,
trailer hippies and wasted truckers,
gator raisers, and ufo chasers,
leased farms and windowless houses.

We wade through the middle of it all
in search of golden scaled carp:
tough wallower, crawdad crusher, croaker,
warm water trash fish of my heart.

Give us a sign, be it in a ditch or pond,
shallow slough or pit: plumes of rising mud,
coffee can vibrations, submarine back,
sudden breaches toward the sun.

Without question, without questioning,
you are a forgotten renegade
drawing a long line of renegades behind you.

www.theflyfishjournal.com, Tailgate, 5/12/2009