I haven't written anything on this blog lately, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm dead. I am recovering from stomach flu, however, which is the next best thing. I was at least going to show you another one of my canadian rabbits before I crawl back into bed, but Bloogle won't allow it today, for some reason. So how about a found poem instead?
“We sight cast to tailing reds 
a 25-inch west-side  
caught on a popper. Waters
support double digit days,
vast unpressured flats,
thick seagrass meadows.”
Tree washing
                      -
                    
 
"What kine fish dat?" asked a new guy at the guard shack. "Fish in a tin," 
I responded, as I was wearing my past tense Tinned Fish cap, given me by a 
f...
3 days ago
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
