One windless evening the bass started biting
just before sunset as I glided along
the bayou in a pirogue with a ******
of the paddle here and there for direction.

I was casting a topwater up against
the bank among the cypress trunks and stumps
and overhanging limbs and shrubs and twitching
and popping the bait until the fish struck.

To see and hear and feel the violent burst
of each strike and to set the hook firmly
in each jaw and each battle kept me out
until the mosquitoes and the gator came.

At first a bumpy head at least a foot wide
and three feet long with big shiny black eyes
inched toward the pirogue and me as if we
were just what they had in mind for dinner.

I dropped my rod and thought I’d better paddle
fast and hard before Wally got too close
but Wally sensed panic and to my horror
I saw the swish of their tail fifteen feet back.

The gator accelerated smooth and quick
and locked their gaze upon the very spot
the paddle broke water to push me away
as the jaws snapped shut and cracked it in half.

I slid away watching as the gator shook
their monstrous head free of the broken splinter
and I realized now they’d be coming again
for me down the bayou with half a paddle.

The pirogue rocked on the wave Wally made
during all the commotion and sure enough
they came again stalking the little boat
now stalled and adrift so I had to act fast.

I untied and lifted my stringer of bass
gasping and wet like a shiny green fleece
and hefted and hurled it aiming precisely
at the slashing jaws of the reptile beast.

The gator struck at the fish with a splash
of their big toothy head and chomped down on three
huge bass and swallowed them whole in one gulp
then snapped up three more that were still on the string.

So Wally was happy for now as the sun
went down and I wondered how to get back
to the dock half a mile away in the dark
with Wally nearby and perhaps hungry yet.

Then I got an idea and picked up my rod
and cast the old topwater past Wally’s head
and chugged it back popping in front of their face
where soon they attacked it and hooked themself good.

Wally went down with a **** and a swirl
and made such a wave I grabbed the boat rail
with one hand while holding onto the rod
which bent almost double as the line stretched tight.

The pirogue took off like a rocket boat
as Wally swam up the bayou to flee
the pressure and drag and the alien hook
underwater and then on top with me.

In no time I neared the dock in the dark
and slackened the line until Wally shook free
then glided right up to the dock and *******
and got out fishless but at least in one piece.

Chaque fois que j 'escalade
Les parois des mots vers les pics inviolés
J 'emmène avec moi dans l'expédition
Mon éclaireuse d'élite.

Ma sherpa me guide et me prévient
Des chutes de sérac et des avalanches,
Cuisine les rimes embrassées, porte les alexandrins
Installe le campement des rimes embrassantes.

Alors elle se repose sous sa tente
Et, satisfaite, cure sa pipe
Tout en fredonnant inconsciemment
Ses deux quatrains suivis de  deux tercets
Tandis que que moi je suçote
Mes surelles poétiques confites.
.
Ma pisteuse pose ses pitons et ses broches à glace
Dans l 'ombre des cimes
Sans oxygène sans assistance
Dans les nuages de la haute poésie.

Nous avons ainsi planté nos sonnets
Dans les vingt-et-un sommets continentaux
Ma sherpa c'est mieux qu 'un sur-homme
C'est une sur-femme, une sur-muse
Une sur-déesse
Une vieille briscarde
C'est Junko Tabei et Bachendri Pal
Et après chaque sommet qu 'elle franchit
Sans désagrément
Elle se retire sous sa tente
Et, satisfaite, cure sa pipe
Tout en fredonnant inconsciemment
Ses deux quatrains suivis de deux tercets
Tandis que moi je suçote
Mes surelles poétiques confites.

Parfois la chute d'un sérac imprévisible
Nous emporte, nous ensevelit et nous broie presque
Mais jamais ma sherpa ne se départit de sa pipe
Ni moi de mes surelles
Dans nos joutes poétiques.

its not that i don't notice
i notice all the time
maybe you don't know this
i'm running out of my mind

Try not to panic
Its only forever
Treat it kindly
Plenty of water

This isn't any normal dream
its a full recollection of my fantasy
too much at stake to leave it alone
i've seen where we came from

Trippin on your legs
as i walk through
the living room
hope i didn’t wake you
im trying to avoid my doom

visiting a trip
towards memory lane
stop giving me lip
and quit playing that game

afterthoughts
and before feelings
emotion robots
and contact dealings.

i just found out
that snow is cold
the benefit of the doubt
is that experience is old

popularly singularity
has escaped me
i feel myself slipping
into unknown dreams

don't fret
you better bet
i'm not anyone
i'm someone

its not that i don't notice
i notice all the time
maybe you don't know this
i'm running out of my mind

your hypotheticalness
is getting out of hand
creating quite a mess
in the desert sand

rock-a-bye  ah-dult
and the branch broke
its not your fault
for being a dolt

dream of me
and be aware
it may be
a total nightmare

I trust that I can lie
To be the strong one
Who’s ready to die
But I’m not yet done

Here take this
A little piece of advice
Don’t talk about anything
When Silence will suffice

Homeward
Upward
Down size
Wrong size

long ways
to paradise
love stays
while you fantasize

magic trees....
thats all i have to say
they are scary
in every way...

My outer layers are ephemeral,
Shifting from day to day
At one time, all I want is some rest
The next, to go out and play.

There’s an Annie that loves to be seen by others
Full of charm, glamour and style
This person is rare, and once coming out
Likes to stay in and hide for a while.

The scientist in me loves reason and rhyme
It gives her a means to an end.
She’s the most relaxing to stay in for a time
But fails to amuse her friends.

Emotionasia loves deep conversations
The kinds hipsters will have in college
She’s impatient, tempestuous, selfish at times
And has deep empathetic knowledge.

When I chance to change, which happens quite often
I don’t understand why I’m here.
It’s scary to see the world different each day
Both wonderful, and filled with fear.

I’m not just a disordered amalgam of traits.
I have purpose, a worldview, a home.
But when each of these traits in my change every day,
It’s hard to think much is my own.

I think you are the only one,
    Who’s normal in my busy feed.
In crowds, my affection you’ve won,
    And are the one who I do need.

They post those pretty, prideful pics,
    While you just share so modestly,
Upon a day from one to six
    Pictures who are so glittery.

You have some friends who post like you,
    Dainty with their beautiful styles,
With pastel pink and pastel blue,
    Evoking love, evoking smiles.

Thank you, my distant star-like friend,
    Who I know only through my phone,
This with my peace to you I send,
    While I do stay to you unknown!

I sang of you to passersby
To tell them of your grace.
I wished them all the luck
To gaze upon your face.
I hoped they all would be
The luckiest of friends
To feel the peace descend;
Be the joy that never ends.

I sang of all my memories
Of now and days gone by
Where you were a gift to me
And I was just humble I.
I sang a melody of happiness
And life that came complete.
So I was dedicated to lay
The world there at your feet.

I sang though some did think
I was but a simpleton’s fool
Who suffered some diseases
That kept me long from school.
They clucked and bade me quiet
When I most wanted to sing.
They could not feel what I felt.
They felt not a loving thing.

I sang through scowls and scoffs
And heartless catcalls of the many.
I suffered names like half-witted,
Brainless ****, twit and *****.
But did I care what many had said
Who ridiculed my loving song?
Not I, instead I ignored them all
And sang louder as I went along.

The warmth fills you up
The burn scrapes your throat
You’d like to hiccough
And your brain is afloat

The Bourbon is hot
The ice is not
The ginger is sweet
But my heart prefers it neat.