The Bigfoot’s Lament
People. I’m tired of people.
It’s why I live in the woods.
Me. Yeah, me. In the woods.
In the wilds. In the wilderness.
In the bushes, in the trees.
I’m trying to stay away from
people. People and their
snappy snappy cameras
and their yappy dogs. I don’t
Me, Larry. In the woods. I’m
sure you’ve seen the ridiculous pictures.
They’re all blurry, yeah. I wasn’t
going to hold still about it. No
posing. Yeah, that’s my real hair.
No, you can’t touch it.
But these people, they keep
trying to find me. Some of them
hunt me. So I’ve bunkered up,
locked it all down, gone off the grid
for decades now. No address, no phone.
When people do what I do, you call
them militias. Then I’m a militia of one,
and while I might steal their camp food,
I’m not interested in seeing anyone