“Your Catfish FriendIf I were to live my lifein catfish formsin scaffolds of skin and whiskersat the bottom of a pondand you were to come by one eveningwhen the moon was shiningdown into my dark homeand stand there at the edge of my affectionand think, “It's beautifulhere by this pond. I wish somebody loved me,”I'd love you and be your catfishfriend and drive such lonelythoughts from your mindand suddenly you would be at peace,and ask yourself, “I wonderif there are any catfishin this pond? It seems likea perfect place for them.”
In this poem by Richard Brautigan, the speaker imagines himself living as a catfish at the bottom of a pond. The speaker then describes a scenario where someone stands by the pond, feeling lonely, and wishes for love. The speaker promises to love this person, drive away their lonely thoughts, and become their catfish friend. This whimsical and imaginative poem explores the themes of loneliness, friendship, and the power of love to bring peace and comfort. The speaker's offer of friendship and love, even in the form of a catfish, showcases the beauty of human connection and the transformative power of love.
In today's fast-paced and often disconnected world, the idea of finding genuine connection and companionship is more important than ever. Richard Brautigan's poem "Your Catfish Friend" speaks to the universal desire for love and acceptance, highlighting the transformative power of true friendship. In a society where loneliness and longing are prevalent, this poem serves as a reminder to cherish and nurture the relationships that bring us peace and comfort.
In this poem by Richard Brautigan, the speaker imagines living their life as a catfish and offering companionship to someone feeling lonely by the pond. The deep connection between the speaker and the potential friend is beautifully described in this touching excerpt.
This poem by Richard Brautigan explores themes of loneliness, friendship, and empathy. As you reflect on the poem, consider the following questions:
“My Name“I guess you are kind of curious as to who I am, but I am one of those who do not have a regular name. My name depends on you. Just call me whatever is in your mind.If you are thinking about something that happened a long time ago: Somebody asked you a question and you did not know the answer.That is my name.Perhaps it was raining very hard.That is my name.Or somebody wanted you to do something. You did it. Then they told you what you did was wrong—“Sorry for the mistake,”—and you had to do something else.That is my name.Perhaps it was a game you played when you were a child or something that came idly into your mind when you were old and sitting in a chair near the window.That is my name.Or you walked someplace. There were flowers all around.That is my name.Perhaps you stared into a river. There as something near you who loved you. They were about to touch you. You could feel this before it happened. Then it happened.That is my name.”
“I had become so quiet and so small in the grass by the pond that I was barely noticeable, hardly there. I sat there watching their living room shining out of the dark beside the pond. It looked like a fairy-tale functioning happily in the post-World War II gothic of America before television crippled the imagination and turned people indoors and away from living out their own fantasies with dignity. Anyway, I just kept getting smaller and smaller beside the pond, more and more unnoticed in the darkening summer grass until I disappeared into the 32 years that have passed since then.”
“Hinged to forgetfulness like a door,she slowly closed out of sight,and she was the woman I loved,but too many times she slept likea mechanical deer in my caresses,and I ached in the metal silenceof her dreams.”
“There are spiders living comfortably in my house while the wind howls outside. They aren't bothering anybody. If I were a fly, I'd have second thoughts, but I'm not, so I don't.”
“My God, ma'am, you're so pretty I'd walk ten miles barefooted on a freezing morning to stand in your shit.”
“This morning I saw a coyote walking through the sagebrush right at the very edge of the ocean ― next stop China. The coyote was acting like he was in New Mexico or Wyoming, except that there were whales passing below. That’s what this country does for you. Come down to Big Sur and let your soul have some room to get outside its marrow.”