my great aunt and I 
would go fishing 
every Saturday morning
because she didn’t know
how else to fix a boy 
who didn’t know what
was so wrong 
we’d stop at this new place
that had a diner built on the side
we’d eat breakfast in a booth
preparing for a day of fishing
with a lunch of Vienna Sausage
smashed between two Zesta crackers

I never really wanted to go
and sit out in the heat 
for hours and hours and hours
but I did it anyways
because I had nothing better
to do

I wish
I could sit across
from her in those 
particle board booths
with the morning fog
pressing against the windows
Travis Tritt playing 
from a speaker above us
and tell her that she was
probably the best one
out of all of them