The Fishing Boat Trip

We were ten miles out
when the boat engine died.
I went to go fishing.
She came for the ride.

Her cellular phone
was way out of reach.
And just where was mine?
In the truck at the beach.

There's one thing that's trashed
I've had on my list...
the radio used
to call for assist.

The sun gave no solace.
Her brazen mind seared.
To die with her bitchin'
was all that I feared.

Three days had then passed
and just before dark
we saw in the ocean
a massive ass shark.

Our water was low
The end was foreseen.
We ate the bait raw,
like Chinese cuisine.

We finished the water,
the very last drop.
Though close to our death
her mouth wouldn't stop.

She pointed out flaws
of life and our fate.
I told her she's right,
then used her for bait.

I cast her aside.
Mere seconds had passed.
My fishing line yanked.
I hooked him that fast.

He tugged and he pulled.
For hours we fought,
but I would not yield
until he was caught.

Once close to the boat
I stabbed with my knife.
A trophy so worthy,
in trade for a wife.

Another ship passed,
then rescued at sea.
I answered the query
with, "Nope, only me."

I think of those days,
in pain I recall.
Then smile at the shark
that hangs on my wall.

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I created this silly picture myself from numerous different Google Images.

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