Sasquatch Kinda Love

Monument Mountain, The Berkshires (1855-60) by Asher Brown Durand

Pike Hotch, down in Appalachia

Up in the mountains, Past the saw

Mill and deep into the pines.

That’s where you’re like to find

That son of a gun, Pike Hotch,

The very first of his kind.

He takes a rope in all three fingers

Chewed to hell and lingers

Out by the docks at night.

He brings his dog Moe, ties him tight,

Squats naked in still waters

Like a gator fixed to bite.

Now there ain’t none can prove it

But on my ma I saw it

That runty rogue Hotch

High on hope and scotch

Done caught himself a real

Honest to God Sasquatch.

I wish you coulda seen it,

Them two tangled in a fit,

Fur and parts of Pike unknown,

Till he got her good with a stone

Smack dab across the head,

Moe barking up a bone.

Pike’s gone and disappeared.

It seems it’s what I feared.

We ought kill the wedding doves.

Good God in Heaven above.

Have you ever heard

Of a Sasquatch kinda love?