The Fisherman

Hey man can we fish in this place?
I have my pole, my yellow squiggly.
The rules require a warrant but there is grace
God made the sea and the ichthys wiggly.

Then we will go where no state cares,
‘bout finding the Tuna international.
The drift, the hook will bring the wares,
The joys of catch release a free for all.

Barracuda like shiny, Groper the worm,
the Skipper sips rum, the crew well wined.
Keeping the line wet is always the best form
In trawling the tale of the big one not dined.