With a nod to Bobby Darin Kurt Weill and Bertold Brecht

With a nod to Bobby Darin Kurt Weill and Bertold Brecht

Catfish paw at the sand

But never play with

Balls of wool

Dancing in thread

Reeled in

Not unspooled

In a quickstep

Across a parquet floor

Dancing on hot plates

Not tin roofs

Or thin ice

Why are they

Always quiet

A whisker away

From danger

As the shark bites

Pearly teeth dear

As sharp as knives

Pussy willows

Fall down

Into the water

Where a quartet

Of bullfrogs sing

As summer grows

On the vine

Blue Damsels

Fly in extravaganza

Finely textured

Diamond wings

Taking flight

Until the moment

The music dies

Long tongues

Sharp teeth

Makes no difference

To the Catfish

In the deep end

With his head down

In a sandbank

Hoping the

Lone shark stops

At a Dogfish

Hiding in Sargassum

Sonic barking

Drives him mad

Enough

To eat the scarlet

Before it begins

To spread

Cover his whiskers

With mittens

So they never get stained

In red

It is how that catfish

Keeps on growing

When all the other

Big fish in the pond

Are all washed up

Dead.