Sermon of an Elder Catfish




Watch where you’re 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 can’t find us, they can’t catch us.

I dont care what those heathen trout say:

The surface is not our home.

Heaven isn’t 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


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