The Professor

"i got this when i was young,
when i was conquering my first tree,
but then gravity conquered me instead"
pointing to a scar on his forehead
he said boastfully, beaming
like a proud son to his father
even though i never knew him
all my life, this stranger
was talking to me on the jetty

i smiled, nodded, looked over
his shoulder, looked over
the fishing rod, thinking about the line
and what was on the end of it

"i caught myself a big one, last week
you should have seen the baby, big"
he said, with renewed vigour
"it was struggling, like a prize fighter,
it was defiant, like a rampant bull,
reminded me of myself, but then
i pulled the baby in. and man it was
huge." he was almost breathless, "and i laid it
for all to see, right at this seat where i am
sitting now. right at this spot."

i remained silent, but smiled
politely. everybody likes to tell
a story once in a while
but today i'm only listening
i'm only thinking about
what's on the end of the line

"you'd never guess my profession,
i'm teach, lecture, yes, in the university
yeah, got my degree way back then
got my doctorate in the states. worked
my ass off, but now here am i, speaking
to you. and fishing. damn it seemed so
fucking surreal. it seemed like yesterday."

he was beginning to strut
like a proud peacock
like an old sea sailor
after a whiskey and a rum
selling his adventures
but no, he was a professor,
and now he is fishing
or was he parading his life story
standing himself like a trophy

and the line began to move
he excused himself and
he kept on pulling, trying
to rail the line in
i was watching
and he kept on pulling
and he kept on pulling