When you meet William Edgar Marshburn

you learn that Sasquatch 

is a man

 

Enigmatic as the beast 

from which he was bestowed his name

by an impudent angry driver

cursin' about in a parking lot

came at him swingin’

“You Sasquatch-lookin’ son of a bitch…”

 

He’s not wrong.

 

The resemblance

for those who have encountered both

beast and man

quite convincing
in look, yes

in manner, more
recondite, crude, tender, interminable

the stuff of legends

 

Son of the military 

brother of my father
brother / brother

blue collar / white collar

biker / cowboy

at times only connected by

bloodline

Sasquatch has known the road 

his whole life

 

Now we’ve miles to spend

across hot pavement

the only thing that runs stronger than 

his diesel motor

is his mouth

 

He knows this.

Veiled beneath

hearty jubilance

lives a monster, he calls it

which pays no penitence

closure which

has yet to arrive

Sasquatch is too a safe harbor 

for unrighteous anger

 

We are too old to blame our fathers.