This Poem was Submitted By: arnie s WACHMAN On Date: 2006-05-20 16:49:58 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Fishing with Zayda

Lazy hazey day Summer Just tool around and play Nothing could make it a bummer I was only seven Country home It was a touch of heaven Allowed to go anywhere and to roam Go get your grand-pa mom asked of me He’s down by the lake I’ll go there and have a look-see Took off my shirt and started to bake Zayda was there  With his fishing line He had caught a fish and started to swear He looked at me and said “this ^^^***fish isn’t fine” He took the fish still attached Swung it over his head onto the dock And with a rock he started to bash Until the poor fish could no longer flip flop Then I asked him, “why did ya do that?” He said, “we Jews cannot eat or even approach her” Zayda took a rock and pounded it flat He then told me, “we Jews know that it’s not even kosher” That was my very first lesson in the laws of eating I didn’t know until then if a fish had no scales That we couldn’t eat fish if it was bottom feeding I learned a lesson and never ever did impale     A fish     (Funny thing is I’m allergic     To fresh water and salt water fishes      And to eat them I’ve never had any wishes)

Copyright © May 2006 arnie s WACHMAN

Additional Notes:
Author's note: I would have anaphylactic shock if I ate a fish. It happened once in a Chinese Restaurant. Zayda - Yiddish/Hebrew word for grandfather I know I know the rhyming is not good...but so what? I'm not good at it!


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