4/29/15 catfish poem #1
brightly colored boats
with criss-cross (the paddles)
people stare at each other, unaware
of another, thing much more shocking.
There are catfish in the bay. Larger than
boats are they; with bright silver scales
dancing in the swells, like gypsy women
– laugh when you see ’em, twirling on
their fins. Oh the dance! The parade!
(sitting in the shade is a funny little
man) “Have you seen it?” “Yes!” says I, much like
politicians: heads with hats, sleek and fat, walking down
main street, looking cool like up-street, and they smile with smiles
wide and beguiling. Hey! Look over there – Running for
MAYOR! Would you vote for a catfish, looking
like a sweet dish? In a velvet suit – classy
just a little bit trashy, smoking cigars
Man! He’ll be a star! “50 bucks a
pound!” Hella good deal –
but the catfish reel.
Back to the water! Catfish
are real smartar, but not with tartar.
Jump in the bay – fin display, as paddles
criss-cross brightly colored boats all in row
catfish show shiny silver scales swimming below.