James Ray Wilson - Braveheart the Crawfish

George Armstrong Custer was a pompous idiot.

Braveheart the Crawfish is not.

Fighting the red mud water, he treads against

the mass motion of molecules

across the middle of the road.

He is assigned by nature both inside and out

to defend his puddle

sent roaring across County Road 127

by this August deluge.

So as my two-thousand pound Pontiac approaches,

in spite of the waters surging over him,

he rears on his hind legs to his full four inches.

The current whips around his knees,

Upraised forelegs and antenna

give him fifty percent more presence.

Though a comrade lies two feet away

A puddle of crawfish puree-

never once does he question

whether his territory

is worth defending.

I drive around him

because it is his territory-

as Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse

drowned Custer in his own blood

for violating this same

rule.

Braveheart the Crawfish

These poems are
tracks marking the
happy meandering path
of ongoing discovery ...