Sermon of an Elder Catfish
Watch where youre going, boys-
Light doesnt dance down here.
Our eyes grow big as half-dollars,
But we still cant see a fucking thing.
Whiskers, lead the way, pull our bellies
Across the muck we make our beds in,
Steer us clear of the troubles
That shake through the world,
Especially those fast-talking gar,
Their loose lips and flash of gold teeth.
We dont want any trouble here-
Your skins are slick for a reason.
Depth is the key, gentlemen-if
They cant find us, they cant catch us.
I dont care what those heathen trout say:
The surface is not our home. Heaven
Isnt above us, the sun on our backs,
Rainbows bursting from our sides.
Heaven is deep, its black and cold,
Its still. Heaven is everywhere
Everyone else is afraid to go.
Miles Garett Watson