simple_fisherman fallen sifting through the bayou.....the slapping of water against your flat boat ... brushing the local mosquitos off of your face... waiting for it .... the call of some bird off in the distance, the seagulls swooping in hoping you will toss food their way.... dining on potted meat and crackers .......it only tastes good when you are out here on the water ... the sound of the boat scraping over speed limit signs and the tops of buildings.....some of the elders still remember when the town was above land... smiling as you recall the first time you spied Jean Lafitte's burial grounds..... they say that ol' Red Eye still guards his most hidden ...secret ...treasure ... woe onto whoever finds it's wonders ... the sun shining brightly...licking your skin painfully .....the mosquito netting now serves a double purpose ......drifting whichever way the slow ... deceptive ... current takes you .....drifting off into sleep ..... mimicking the land as you try to stretch out as magestically as the shorelines ....for there are soo many...tangled ....tangled along the delta branches....tangled in it's own lazy way ... only the most cunning navigators can reach the most fruitful water holes.... standing and waving at the occassional passers-by.... ...saturated in this moment 010712 what's it to you? who go blather from