There Are Not Too Many Fables About

Your Catfish Friend If I Were To Live My Life In Catfish Forms In Scaffolds Of Skin And Whiskers At The Bottom Of A Pond And You Were To Come By One Evening When The Moon Was Shining Down Into My Dark Home And Stand There At The Edge Of My Affection And Think, “it's Beautiful Here By This Pond. I Wish Somebody Loved Me,” I'd Love You And Be Your Catfish Friend And Drive Such Lonely Thoughts From Your Mind And Suddenly You Would Be At Peace, And Ask Yourself, “i Wonder If There Are Any Catfish In This Pond? It Seems Like A Perfect Place For Them.

Reduce Intellectual And Emotional Noise Until You Arrive At The Silence Of Yourself And Listen To It.

We Walked Back To Ideath, Holding Hands. Hands Are Very Nice Things, Especially After They Have Travelled Back From Making Love.

I Fished Upstream Coming Ever Closer And Closer To The Narrow Staircase Of The Canyon. Then I Went Up Into It As If I Were Entering A Department Store. I Caught Three Trout In The Lost And Found Department.

I Do Not Care To Be Esthetically Tickled In A Fancy Theater Surrounded By An Audience Drenched In The Confident Perfume Of Culture. I Can't Afford It.