If the feng shui of your brain’s set up properly,
Bigfoot doesn’t have to make a sound
to communicate what he needs you to know.
As long as you’re not jamming shit
with your phone or setting up deer cameras
all over the place, he’ll lean back in the deep
cushions of your mind, align himself
with your spirit, and enjoy the light
coming through your windows
enough to let you in on the deal.
Have you ever been in the woods
and realized all of a sudden
the dude you’re with is a complete asshole
for over-grilling the fish you caught
or drinking more than half the beer
you just lugged in? That’s Bigfoot
offering you communion with nature.
It’s like Survivorman always says—
You’ve got to open yourself fully
to the soul of the forest before
he’ll reveal anything to you.
And it’s only when
you prove you can’t do it that all
the knocking and tree cracking starts.
Jack B. Bedell is Professor of English and Coordinator of Creative Writing at Southeastern Louisiana University where he also edits Louisiana Literature and directs the Louisiana Literature Press. Jack’s work has appeared in Southern Review, Birmingham Poetry Review, Pidgeonholes, The Shore, Cotton Xenomorph, Okay Donkey, EcoTheo, The Hopper, Terrain, saltfront, and other journals. His latest collection is No Brother, This Storm (Mercer University Press, 2018). He served as Louisiana Poet Laureate 2017-2019.
image: Lindsay Hargrave