Fisher Fish
No more than halfway down the page
we quit reading maybe skim
a few lines more but likely less
giving up on finding that killer line
shocking image sound bite
as if waiting beside a baited trap
or hiding in a duck blind
quack-call shotgun appetite
Having too much to read makes us scanners
knowing we have to skip most of it
what we discard has already discarded us
knowing its scattered audience
is as disposable as these lines
less than a brief flirtation
an onscreen ad clicked away
Now and then a line pulls us in
a catfish taking our baited hook
pulling us into the river, running with us
we can scarcely breathe while growing gills
a turn we half-expect; it the fisher we the fish
taken whole swallowed whole
a sushi of reading-being-read
The Dog Star 
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