Sasquatch

I am not a costume
stuffed with the organs of bear
and possum— a bucket
of huckleberries from the distant meadows.
They shot me
twice in the stomach
with dimes. The truck dragging
me for miles along
the creek. Ideas
die hard is what
the car salesman said to my wife
after cleaning his boots and his knife.

Copyright © 2009 Norman Dubie All rights reserved
from Burnside Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission