The Narcissist Fisherman





One time-on a date
I was taken flyfishing
For the first time
He was a magnet.

There were the perfect shoes;
The pebble-gripping kind.
Anti-slip. One pair. For him.
He was cool.
And distant.

The river was small
With lots of twiggy trees.
He showed me how to cast.
Watched me do it.
Satisfied, he left.

I watched him walk.
So sure of himself
In those shoes.
He rounded the bend.
I saw him hours later.

There was a trout there
In his hand.
“Look at this beauty!”
“Come watch me gut it.”
I slip-slided over to the bank.

I was weary.
Being alone all day
With tangled lines
In gluttonous trees
I was in no mood.

I listened to myself
Dutifully exclaim:
“Wow! Great catch!”
Trout guts dribbled over the rock.
“I’ll have this for breakfast,” he said.

On the way home I thought:
“This is the worst fucking date ever.”
Why didn’t I just stand for myself
And have him take me home
Instead of getting so small and silent?

He needed to be front and center.
My mother was like that too.
Old and familiar energies
Act like heroin:
The rope of attraction
Has a noose at the end.






4 Responses to “The Narcissist Fisherman”

  1. Barry on January 23rd, 2015

    “The rope of attraction
    Has a noose at the end.” ……. OUCH!

  2. Nina on January 23rd, 2015

    insightful wise woman are you dear cathy


  3. Jane on January 23rd, 2015

    I love : “Old and familiar energies act like heroin. The rope of attraction has a noose at the end.” Beautiful!

  4. gerry harty on January 23rd, 2015

    dear cathy…I am speechless!!! this speaks for so many of us!!! thank you so much…a true masterpiece…BRAVO!!!

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