Fishing

This poem was originally published in October of 2012 for a poetry class at the University of Massachusetts Dartmouth. Our professor instructed us to use these certain words: Plank, crate, ditch, sail, hook, dark, and bait. Naturally, I came up with a poem about all the second guessing you go through when you’re trying to talk to someone you like.

In his damp dorm cabin, he planks
He’s searches for confidence, like digging in crates

Salvaging the touch screen rod from a pocket’s ditch
Doubts hiss like snakes

Butterflies roam his stomach; for his sail is drooped

Optimism is drowning

Anxiety’s rich

He dissects “Hi,” “Hey,” and “What’s up” and each one stinks

He hooks a smiley face, so it’s not so dark, before pressing “Send”

Centuries elapse without a response, the end of his life

…Finally, she takes the bait

At last, his heart anchors a breath