Going down, but it's not bad.
Going down to the river
to clear my head.
Simple things like skipping rocks
Or catching fish in the stream
Remind me that
even in times like these,
Life could still be a dream

a big catch
that is worth it;
that's what you once said
when you attempted
to reel me in

yet I see there's
no longer a bait at
the end of your hook;
perhaps an easy catch
just wasn't thrilling
enough for you

A righteous day, a right used day,

a day used rights appear self-evidently re
us-ible-able
pos-syble eh?

impossible to do wrong. Right word, right time.

This right to pursue happiness, do you hurt people,
when you do that?

Nah, right? Not f'real, but mebbe in a game,

or maybe, may, could, be

y'feel a sorta hate, y'know, like it's us gin

them GANs again, sur-real

feels so real, history as AI saw it coming,

this is a trope. A million years ahead of you.

This is an anchor. Tie your barque for an ever
and a day, on any rung,

any step you can't forget,... say, one from earlier,

Today, while it is called today,
aha, yes, all the promises have threads through here,

any ***** can draw enough attention to stand up here,

past comprehension... settle settle,

puppy brain, is what amygdyla is blamed for,

we intuitive ideas accept that as reality

we know we know in our knower and we don't ask,
your knower asks us,

but
sometimes
deja vu, we beat you, and life feels completely

been there, done that, and only next is now unknown,

we know we
have arrived. we are the we in we, the people who

hold these truths, the whole truth and nothing but the truth
as sworn to on tv,
by you and me, don't lie, we swore... we the people hold these truths

to be self evident, until death do us whatever death do, which

I think, actual death is the doing of nothing.
Learning nothing, thinking nothing, being nothing but dead.

You can imagine that,
in your mind,
not your head.

That's what I said, baby, softly, that's what I said...

first,
gentle,
easy to be entreated, define at its tip point,
treatment
of trapped trappists and jesuits and such?

Truth, set them free, twas the word heard. From God?

Who asked? Are you accusing me, I am a we, if you please,

we, the people, of a truth,
any thing we agree to do we may, agreement, not leading,

flowing, not following, perceiving reception of mental provocations

to good work, in a smile,

well done. Wink. Think. Feel real a while. Smile.

Mobs of peace at social distances requiring morphich resonance,

tuned to best of the best you ever imagined you would play

we imagined those.

Cool right. Today.

don't tell me
there are other
fish in the sea

when you're
the entire ocean
to me

Boom! goes the dynamite as we fish for fish
No line, net or hook needed
Just a few sticks of dynamite and a Zippo
Light the stick and toss it in
Wait a few seconds and Boom!
There’s a dozen fish ready for the ***
Try not to use fast burn sticks
You’ll end up in heaven or hell
And make sure you throw it far
You don’t want splash backs
Or to sink your boat if afloat
I’ve caught sticklebacks and great whales
And a U-boat and dozen other types besides
Ate my fill in twenty nations
While dynamite fishing
It’s no good for the reefs
But we pay off the officials
No permits needed
You know how it is cash talks
So I’m allowed to fish where I want
And am off to France soon
Followed by Spain and Italy
To do some illegal Boom! fishing...

A fisher boy sits on a dock
Crouched and humble he kisses his lure with a blasphemous sensuality
His back in the sun bakes like bread
As the mile long hands of light tenderly tan his hide

His hands reel me in from my endless pit
translucent strings of boy saliva and fishers thread, weaves beneath my flesh

I wish to be like him
Sleeveless
Sexless
And surrounded by wet

A hook reaches me, propelled by his eyes into mine

Who are you to catch me like this??
his finger in my mouth, shaped like a sickle

I want to go back in my home

Spaced between sky and clouds and their liquid counterpart

I look to the right and see nothing anymore
The left holds me not
A dog barks at nothing and so do I

                      * * *

I look back to the ground, to my own body and my own ***.

The fisher-boy now distant and unknowing casts his hook.
He does not look at me.

I call up my friend later, and send them a picture of a lake
And say with yearning in my heart

“Just look how big the water is”

I freeze two stages in
and she watches with adoration
what a catch,
in weather such as this