What is it with these guys 

and throwing things away?

It's bad enough that they clutter

our home with their leftovers,

but then they go and snag

my lusciously perfect lower lip,

yank me up out of the water,

tickle my sensitive gills,

(supposedly to get the damn hook out,

yeah, sure!) and then, and then,

without a speck of courtesy,

they rudely say I'm too small

and toss me back into their dumping grounds.

What kind of treatment is this, I ask you.

Now it seems I must not only deal

with the brutal invasion of unwanted detritus,

but also with the jarring fact

that I am the detritus.