Listening For The Finches
While walking the railroad tracks almost
smothered in wild orange sunflowers,
I found a gristly ear, I thought of van Gogh
I planted it among my lady’s asparagus,
blackberries, & red currants, waiting
all summer & autumn for something
to reach for the sky with magic
Nothing happened, I saw an ugly dog
digging around until a finch dive bombed it,
one evening as the sun whispered goodnight
I looked out & I saw Vincent dancing
A flock of golden finches floating around
his face, singing & nibbling grain from his
out stretched hands of genius.
Catfish McDaris has been active in the small press world for 20 years. After 3 years as G.I. Joe, he hopped freights & hitchhiked across the U.S. & Mexico. He built adobe houses, tamed wild horses, made cattle troughs, worked in a zinc smelter, & painted flag poles. He lived in a cave & wintered in a Chevy in Denver. He ended at the post office in Milwaukee, a catfish farm is next, He hopes.