The Dish Twas Fish

Hook, line and swimmer

Said the sailor seated ashore

For the bait out flung deep

Did pull like fate’s damned tour

Twas a free floater

Twas a clam unchained

Twas health and hale

Twas–now, never the same


Yet while it was

So valiant it flopped

Though beyond the mare

Its strives ner did stop

Yet Fisher hearty did

with heave and hoe

Reeled the line stiff

Yankin the piscine foe


So to shore sent

Flew the fry to be gutted

Suspended as flame lent

Savory succulence encrusted

Hook, line and dinner

Remarked Fisher belly rotund

Twas ere a tasty delight

Twas–now, barely a burp resound

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Ode to hot water

hot water.png

Vir Bonus Meus, Ecce Aquae Calidae! O Quid Vita Bulliens, Hic Est!

Marciel Atopodmas, De Rebus Simplicibus Vitae


O bubbling clarity, shimmering and smoking before me!

O burning cloud, a suspended soaring breath marching

Off, a brisk cascade showered skyward, birthed monstrously!


For here, silver wreathed, does the life giver show its life,

Foam, bubbly and frothy, not dead airy graves lining stagnant waves

Fires broil the flood, steam seethes through the tongues


Yet neither ebbs; the stoic spirit, the consumer absorbed

Yet rages;  with a cool humor, the saturator contained

Yet surges—annihilation foiled, the essences contrasted are inspired.


Their animosity quenched lets life thrive amidst cupped ashes—

Though remaining there, a substantial titan shall lurk, a burg

Threatening: thus gaze aside that the old geyser gushes anew


Mist belched supreme above a simmered creator, bears ostentatiously

Moistened breath, splashing away shrill, calls a bard over

Murmur bursting, screaming as steam cries a ballad out.