the following verses were inspired by the incomparable Del Brown, celebrated in the rather oddly-worded page at the site linked in Faldage’s post, above:
PERMIT FISHING WITH A FLY
I woke one day in mortal dread ---
“My God!” I thought. “I’ll soon be dead!
And what have I achieved to date?
NOTHING! My life’s one big blank slate!”
That morning, o’er my breakfast cereal,
I started looking at material
To give my life a little meaning ---
A sort of “spiritual spring-cleaning”.
A title there that caught my eye
Was “PERMIT FISHING WITH A FLY”.
I cried “Why not? Why not?” cried I.
“I’ll give this way-out sport a try,
And land a permit ere I die!
Perhaps the gulfs will wash me down ---
Who cares? I’ll LIVE before I drown!”
I hired a permit-fishing boat,
With sea-wolf skipper, stern, remote.
We sailed upon the briny main,
I fished, and fished, but all in vain.
The skipper finally spoke out:
“D’you think you’re fishing here for trout?
No permit’s ever going to bite ---
Your fly is buttoned far too tight!”
I muttered then in bitter shame
“I’m doomed to die without a name”.
Then said the skipper (kind for once)
“I tell you what, you stupid dunce ---
Go get yourself a proper fly,
And then we’ll have another try.
You have to have” explained the skipper,
A fly that’s fastened with a ZIPPER!”
Next day I came aboard equipped
with brand-new fly, quite loosely zipped.
“Now that’s a fly” the skipper said,
“Will strike those permits good and dead.
A MERKIN, such a fly is called;
They’re used by ladies who’ve gone bald.
And now” the skipper said “Let’s try
To catch some permits with that fly”.
Lo and behold! within two ticks
The permits came—one, two, four, six!
And thick and fast they came at last ---
Even the skipper was aghast!
We stacked ‘em half-way up the mast.
So all you folks whose life is bleak
And some relief of spirit seek,
The thing you really need to try
Is fishing permits with a fly.
And, if you’re going to do it right,
Make sure your fly’s not closed too tight.