Fear no fears, for fears are clearly
for the fearful, not you. Nearly
every severed hand-like Thing
can Lurch at you. In Church we sing,
our missals whistle registering.
Here, you'll hear me clearly report
this: My gift for being the short-
winded one ended when you crossed my
mind. I find I'm blinded by thy
sight, so I write. Now you know why.
Shallow waters, shallow life.
The shallows take away my strife.
Mud bugs scurry. Minnows flash.
A brackish tidal basin's cache
of secrets keeps my mind confined
to the shallows until I find
reason, or seasoned crabs, shellfish
so succulent, a local dish
served steaming! It seems to me quite clear
why I hold shallow thoughts dear:
Crabbing waters, crabbing lines,
crabby people paying fines
and fees for these lines here,
near my favorite, crabby peers.