A salmon now,
I was a man,
a large brain.
My little boat,
ninth bottle of
beer, trying to
stand, the sun
oppressive,
blinding then
sinking like
a 40 oz can
of malt liquor.
What was I
going to do
once I stood
*****? During
the pondering
I drowned. Now
swimming
back to my
birth-stream to
lay eggs. I may
see lunch, a
worm or herring
then a hook in
my mouth,
I flop onto the
floor of a boat,
one eye looking
up as the
big knife
swiftly
comes down.