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(06OCT58 / Alton, IL)

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Fun On The Flaming Phlegeton

I loved a fair miss,
From the city of Dis.
Who had but one wish,
The Phlegeton to fish.
So I conjured a boat,
From the skull of a goat.
And we took the boat out,
And went fishing for trout.
But the fishing was bad,
And it drove my love mad.
And as it grew late,
I ran out of bait.
So I butchered that Miss,
From the city of Dis.
I dismembered that lass,
My hooks held her flesh fast.
Then I threw my lines out,
And caught trout after trout.
I had fishsticks that night,
They were such a delight.
Now, when fishing I go,
There's one thing I know.
That the fish around here,
Hold human flesh dear.
So the ladies I date,
I use them for bait.
And the fish that I catch,
No one can match.
And the sign on my door,
It reads nothing more.
Than, 'A fishing I've gone,
On the fun Phlegeton.'

Submitted: Friday, March 27, 2009


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Comments about this poem (Everyman's Death: A Rainbow by Bob and Alex Eichen )

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  • Amy O'Gara (4/1/2009 10:10:00 PM)

    Do the boiling souls mixed with the human flesh really give the fish a kick?

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