I said, “They say

the fish are the last to notice the water.”

And you had never heard that

So you smiled.

How much of my wit is

Formed from the discarded

Remains of other men’s wit?

I do not reveal the source.

It is the joy of the old

To hang with the young

So that we can pretend

We never smiled the 

First time we heard

The fish are the last to notice the water.