Wooing

When you and your girl are both in college and super busy analyzing subaltern identity and what Mr Leopold Bloom had for lunch, there is a quick solution for your romancin’ needs: poetry.

Lindsey and I sent each other poems via email pretty frequently for the first couple years we were together. I even, in a very Perks of Being a Wallflower moment, once wrote some out and put them together into a small book with a drawing on the front. (I also once bought her a typewriter, come to think of it. Hmm, Charlie…)

We’ll have poems at the wedding. You can read them! Here’s one now, to tide you over:

Your Catfish Friend
Richard Brautigan

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.”

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2 responses to “Wooing

  1. I love this!!!

  2. Me too! Lindsey introduced me to Brautigan’s work; it’s good stuff.
    -R

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