• 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."