A long time ago I spent many hours in a small boat, fishing the back bays of the southern New Jersey coast. On rare occasions, when slack water, dead calm and the sun was at just the right angle, the bay would be like a sheet of glass, and when I looked over the side of the boat I could see my reflection in the water. On those rare occasions I would always think, I live on the surface and see only the surface, and see or know nothing of what lies beneath the surface. That is where we are. We live on the surface of events, seeing nothing of the roiling currents below. Yes, we know the Little Rock FBI field office is investigating the Clinton emails, but are they investigating Clinton or the fake FBI investigation of the emails? Or both? We know two District Court judges have questioned the legitimacy of the Mueller investigation, and we are constantly being told the FBI Inspector General’s report will be out any day now. But this is just the surface, and all we see are reflections. We know nothing of what is going on in the deep water. But slack water does not last forever. Come the change of tide and the deep water starts to run again, and then we shall know.

Beneath slack water lay the clues
Deep hid from surface and fake news
The baitfish dart like spattered rain
As viscera the surface stain
But who the baitfish and the shark?
At change of tide the deep still dark
Yet as the tide begins to run
The hidden currents have begun
To lift the veil on who’s the bait
And who’s the shark to settle fate