I'm Walt. And I'm Marie Elena.
This is the collaboration of two kindred spirits; partners in rhyme;
"the best friends we've never met."
All "Across the Lake. Eerily."

Tuesday, February 23, 2010


Despite all my father’s fine efforts
at fishing allure he’d amassed,
to teach me to cast was just futile,
my fishing technique was out-classed.

I’d flail with my rod, so awkwardly,
my arms and my line, out of sync,
close to the edge, ankle deep in the sludge,
and one clumsy step from the drink.

Catching my line, a branch flusters me.
Looks like I’m fishing up the wrong tree. 


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