Angels, And How To Tuna Fish

It's been a rough week, and in fighting off the angels sent to take me home during the night I may have made the fatal step from hardass to dumbass.

Of course, it may play a role that Barb's sick, and her system doesn't like the prescribed medication. Kinda don't think bowing out would be good, right now.

But anyway.

Did you ever have the thought,

did you ever have the wish

that you really truly ought

to know just how to tuna fish?

Are there scales to check the tension?

Is it tenor? Largemouth bass?

Did perhaps I fail to mention

that this can be Pain in the... Donkey?

But, oh, yes, the piscine tunes

must play acquatic harmony,

and raise on high their fame-balloons

unto the Lord's Eternity

in which He dared to see the play

of a singing fish fillet.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is DECIDE.

If you decide to tuna fish

to make in music-land your mark,

be careful, very, not to wish

that you had a mako shark

with its quite distinctive tail

(looks like it could be strung as harp),

but your effort would not prevail;

its teeth would make the tuning sharp.

But a flounder is no better choice;

please believe when I say that

its tonal repertoire and voice

are like it's body, really flat.

So, for fish-song with no worry,

stick with Nemo, Bruce, and Dory.

Three minutes forty-two, exactly.

Music from Pharrell Williams, with Happy

Sylvia's happy I'm still here.