Destination Anywhere

This poem was written on the back of two handbills for Corefest circa 1997
Prairie fish
navigating
slow, brown rivers
weaving
endless twists and turns
is there a method
to your madness?
do you meander
eventually
to the greater sea
or flounder
into an ox-bow?
does the rich salt
invigorate
the gills
or forever does
fermented algae
unfilter you?
Great Sturgeon
or prairie salmon
you are at the forks now
will you turn
back up against
the muddy current
or continue down
the water shed
to destination anywhere?