I dropped out of school in the fourth grade to work in a shoe factory before I took up farming. I grew salmon—on trees.

I brush my teeth like they are gray cumulonimbus clouds, and I floss like I fish. Can I offer you a small piece of salmon?

Salmon swim against my stream of consciousness.

For several centuries, the Celtic church of Ireland was spared the Greek dualism of matter and spirit. They regarded the world with the clear vision of faith. When a young Celtic monk saw his cat...

I network like a salmon in a bear costume. Why swim upstream when the honeybee has all the flowers? Is anything more romantic than roses on a grave?

I sat next to a salmon on the sofa. After ten minutes of bear-like conversation, it was dead. Oh well, at least surrealism is still alive.

You piss me off you Salmon… You’re too expensive in restaurants.