Grimbeau

Wichita Lineman
pitches up 
out of the blue 
Lacuna
inquiring:
 Was you not once a carpfish
 plagued by crippling doubts
 about a distant golden
 age of innocence?

Yes,I  was once that Carpfish

You confirm resonantly
with disarming brevity
quasi-presidentially
semi-residentially
taking it all in 
your jackboot 
crushing a face 
stride

making cryptic hand signals
in clipped bespoken 
cabalistic tongues

Yes. I was that Carpfish:
for old halibuts die hard
go hang a sharp left at 
Cape Codology

there
bipolar dancing bears picnic
out on melting strawberry 
ice floats on mustard

wallowing in unabashed self-pity
seconds before the bullet
hit you in the forehead

Trespassers will be Executed
read the flashing pulsar
over the black horizon