Home Shopping (Ode to the Instant Fisherman)

A Poem by A.K.A. Peteman

Bliss came sudden, instant with the touch of a button
Three easy pieces, stainless steel reel
Back then what seemed to me 
To be an easy buy now, pay later deal
The friendly operator on my line, an instant later
Catered to whatever surfaced in my brain
Whatever I had to say, I wanted
And to how I chose to pay

Visa, two-day air, whatever happened to that payment plan
No clue, must've missed it, and frankly, I'm not so sure I care
Pre-delivery excitement ceased to be for me
Back there, with the Fed Ex man, at the bottom of the stairs 
Just John Hancock it over, Rover
Some sudden pushed back regrets
Some sneaky second thoughts ignored
As I ripped the box to shreds

But the fishing turned out s****y, living six up, in the middle of the city
For a newly-found native to the power plant 
The rare Raw Sewage Salmon
Limp on the line, they say, but fluorescent in the hand
Dissatisfied and lazy-eyed
Waist-deep, holding my rod between the reeds
It came to me, seen on TV
Must mean it folds underneath the seat

So back on my reclining throne, eighties box-set hits on the stereo, Status Quo
I cranked the wandering tune down, turned the tube up, and again picked up the phone
George was on
I scored a Foreman grill, hung up the phone, and spent the night alone
Ceramic kitchen knives, a set of six
A quick fix to tide over a two-day gap, and make it a still somewhat fulfilling
A tiny price to pay, really
To feel the short-lived thrill of grilling

George was a real winner, but wouldn't fix my TV-dinner
And I wasn't getting any thinner until something caught my eye
A six-pack, not from Heineken this time
One you can earn, not one you buy
Caught on an infomercial in progression, showing multiple confessions
Of losing lard around the waist
Ab-Roller? Ab-Controler? One of those two
Anyway, I told Fed Ex to make haste

Then a simple plan soon purchased me the gain without the pain
Patches and gel worked just as well, and would never hurt
And not a soul would ever know
About the gym under my shirt
Now shopping sprees would never end, spending afternoons being self-content
Electrified, having defied the laws of being buff
Growing concerns then crept up from under the settee
About redundancy and storage of my stuff

But life now was a telethon and with my fishing days having long since gone
I was dangling from a line, an extended credit line. Working the wrong end of the phone
I took the hook, the line and sinker
Not knowing to what I now was prone
Suits soon showed up at the door, usually at around four
'Cause I had told them to go fish
Hungry former callers were now fishing with their trawlers
To try and put me on a dish

With my numbers neck deep in the red, I couldn't keep those angry anglers fed
And fled, vacated the scene
I took my fold-up fishing rod and grabbed what I could carry
As I wiped the table clean
Now I reside inside the plant at night
Near where the fluorescent fish are playing
Fiddling with my kitchen knife
Good for stick-ups and flaying

Scraping the bottom when the tide is low, treading water when it's flow
I spend my days between the reeds
Waiting, watching, casting out my fly
Not knowing where it leads
And we'll hook up some day maybe
'Cause I'm no peculiar specimen
Just a sign of my own time
I am the Instant Fisherman