Poetry

To catch a fish in a stream of scotch
you cannot use a sharpened spear
For the fish are swift and colorless
they can sense when danger's near

A patient hand and a fearless gut
will be your closest friends
For the fish a clever and full of tricks
they feign in shallow ends

On the rocks beneath the ice
the fish will dwell and hide
So to catch a fish in a stream of scotch
you must drink the current dry