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Fumbletongue Apr 5
In a quiet bowl, a tale began,
Of a fish with tricks that fooled each man.
A beta fish with colors bold,
But Liarfish, as he’d be told.

He’d float belly-up, still as stone,
As if his soul had swiftly flown.
Panicked eyes would widen, stare—
“Is Liarfish no longer there?”

But with a sudden, secret glee,
He’d flick his fins and swim carefree.
Laughing bubbles on his way,
Another prank to start the day.

“Oh, Liarfish!” the people cried,
“You got us good—oh, how you lied!”
And so his name began to grow,
A symbol of a tricky show.

From village streets to busy towns,
His tale spread far, it gained renown.
And when someone would stretch the truth,
Liarfish’s name would slip out smooth.

“Caught in a lie!” the people say,
“That’s Liarfish at work today!”
A wink, a grin, a knowing smile—
They’d call out tricks from many a mile.

Now Liarfish is legend, grand,
A playful prank passed hand to hand.
His name still floats on whispered lips,
When truth and lies make clever flips.

So if you hear a tale askew,
Remember Liarfish, swift and true—
For in his playful, tricky art,
He’s the master of a lying heart.
This is based on a real fish that for whatever reason loved to play dead. So many times thinking this time he is truly gone, only to go scoop him up and have him flip over and swim away. Any time thereafter when I catch people fibbing I simply point and say Liarfish.
Fumbletongue Jul 2022
Please forgive my attitude
And if it seems I'm being rude
All my actions get misconstrued
I guess it's me and never you
Fumbletongue Jul 2022
I look soft and sweet
but I'm tough as nails
It's not that I win
but know how to fail.
Fumbletongue Jul 2022
Sundays smell of intimacy
The initial easing in
The slow meandering journey to x marks the spot
Circling
Round and round
Anticipation building
Bodies sweating
Momentum heaving
The right timing
The right configurations
Jockeying positions
Hands grip and pull
Finding and riding the sweet spots
Exertion. Discipline. Determination.
My compass rose
navigated

Another salty Sunday sailboat race
Fumbletongue Jul 2022
Her spirit was tousled,
unbuttoned and daring; brazen,
speaking in a wild language.
Fumbletongue Jul 2022
Every interaction
another opportunity to tell me
how much I hurt you.
How loving me
makes you a fool.
Please forgive me
for not being swept off my feet
and allowing you
to plunder my depths.
Fumbletongue Jul 2022
If ever I start to baah and bleet
And start to turn into a sheep
Slap me good and slap me hard
Keep me out of the farm yard
Bring to light the mindless plight
And remind me that I howl at night.
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