The fisherman is a strong man with courage to go deep.
He is a listener of country music and an owner of a ragged house with no porch.
All the fishes he has captured was an execution of driven phenomenon…
he waited and he waited for the days and nights to hook lives in his projectile strength.
What if you are lost…you are broken and that’s your whole time here in this world…
he knows that…so always he waits and waits.
No women, no cars, no jobs, no beautiful whores, no full bellies…just waiting of an awakened warrior,
the patience between love and insanity.
All the voices in his radio are broken and come as summertime storms,
he has music that’s why he never get into his knees and bows in front of planned murders.
He only gets his kicks from the opaque eyes of flapping fishes…
he loves them…he waits to die with them.
As the sun gets swallowed by the evening, a solitary wind comes roaring through his open body,
something to drink and the stealthy hunter on his easy chair…
You got to feel fulfilling for the fishes in his hooks.

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Photograph: Jarrett Jarvis.