When it comes time to wade in water,
The kin choose to stay with the Sire.
To left or right follows the daughter.
Divided by invisible wire.

The families wade under the boat,
Where worms look real and bobbers don’t float.
Trusting the man in the dark black coat,
Hooks lurk in water, better not choke.

A tasty grub wiggled, squirmed, fought;
The trout has not eaten for some time.
Fisherman smiles, the fish is caught.
Money is law, killing is no crime.

With schools of a hundred or greater,
The lone trout can change it to the same.
The suits will just account him later,
Just as they did before to the grain.

The boat with the most trout underneath
Sells its banquet to the fleshy sphere.
Trout are displayed as deserving wreath,
Or unworthy to receive a tear.