friend

    

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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."

—Richard Brautigan

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