Sunday, May 17, 2009
Gary Snyder's First Walleye
For the mastery were of the dimensions for both champions,
A sixteenpound pishogue, who ate like tigers clean and clever.
When she lays her egg she is so glad, a savage animal: the man
That got away announced that he was sunk. I saw him before
I met you counting up all the guts of the fish. Listen to the births
And deaths, for they had the start of us and something has come home
And haunts to roost only in its heels still good, some resonance rhythmic
Of an old man causing the ground himself trying to swim straight around
The seastone, and considerations of space in a tengallon pot. What I meant
By aliquot is the agility and training of the eye. True for you, says Jim.
Perfectly true, says Gary but my point was, and so say all of us, says Jim.
And drumhead, red wolf dog of evergreen computation, expecting
Every moment will be his next, everything is an instructive treat, and
A jivic torrent and tasteful souvenir. This mahogany applause hissed
Hazelnuts and apples and sour juices of the ward and parish of St. Michigan.
The Indianaman whose right eye was nearly closed in the nimbi
Of the dish, I saw him before I met you. Multiplying fishes, and
A thousand a year by inkhorn, timber
Around the corner to a moment, our harbors that are empty, that bosses
the earth beyond the sea, all of the various areas of the headsman.
Joshua D. Lickteig writes and studies in an indefinite time of wilful unemployment. His current project is Rigged In Kings, a novel. He studied Finance in the UWM School of Business.