The Cow Speaks

"Your concern for your future," says the cow,
"Is foooooolish.
Are you not also here for a single purpose--
To feed the belly of the world
With the milk of your love
From whatever teat they choose?
Sometimes the extraction hurts, it's true,
But better give the milk away
Than have your utter burst.
And the fences, those are for your benefit.
Really, pay them no mind.
The longer you look through them
The less you will enjoy the pastures
And the more like a prisoner you'll feel."

She Is Real

Can you truly be real?
For if all my desires merged with reality,
Would I not cease to be?
And yet I see that it is you I touch,
Flesh so earthly and yet divine,
And I do not mind disappearing,
So long as I disappear into your eyes.
And there I am determined to stay,
Hidden away from all the world
Except all the beauty you allow me to see.

Upon Looking at the Sky

I arched my neck to look at the sky,
Which was a mistake because I have a bad back.
The pain was more than equal to the pleasure.
Actually, there wasn't much pleasure at all,
Besides that masochistic pleasure which all aging men feel
When their bodies begin to wither.
That pleasure which speaks of wisdom
And intellectual and spiritual growth.
I am quick to disregard those pleasures.
Give me the full expanse of clear blue sky,
The roaring ocean which I might frolic in like a child,
The great view from the mountain top,
Which my own strong legs have allowed me to reach.
Take away wisdom, and what are you left with?
Only beauty, and grace, and the wondrous foolish knowledge
Of freedom.

My Shadow

I order the dinner,
My shadow flips the bill.
I drink the wine,
My shadow vomits it up.
I tell the lie,
My shadow feels the guilt.
With a shadow like mine,
Who needs lackeys or an army?
To conquer the world, all I need do
Is finish this poem.
My shadow will do the rest.

The Stars

Last night, because I was drunk,
I decided to take a detour on my way home.
I climbed my way up to the lookout
On Ohio Road, and watched the city bustling
Like an overworked machine.
"How disgusting!" I thought.
"Someone needs to take a rag to this city.
If I were in charge, I'd shut this place down,
Start fresh."
I looked at the sky:
Black.
Somewhere behind the filth, I knew,
Were the stars.
And, because I was drunk and feeling like a pagan,
I lifted my flask to the sky
And toasted the stars
For leaving their imprint on our collective memory
Before we made them impossible to see.

Sanity

Sanity has a way of diluting every impulse,
Of keeping the heart from making too many leaps.
It spreads a shadow over the eyes of passion,
The light that does get in like that of a late afternoon.
You can feel the sun going down on your life.
You want to hear the wild music
And dance burning at the pit of your soul
Just once more.
To not know the vague truths you now know.
But to cross that line now, in fact,
Is the only step to take.
You do, then step back,
And find yourself more sane because of it.

Awakening

Each evening, when it's time for bed, I awaken
From my waking slumber of languishment
And suddenly, my voice lifts,
Waking the restless dead.
I watch them dance
As my song unwinds--
Their playful antics goad me on.
My grandfather Saul, stoic in life,
Laughs like a madman, feasting on earthly delights.
All the gods are there as well,
Performing feats beyond recounting.
They rub my head, and say,
"You do this well!"
And I smile, and raise my voice
Which echoes against my walls like a bell.
Suddenly, I am awakened again,
This time by a banging on my wall, and a shout:
"Shut up!" it says. "I'm trying to sleep!"
And then the ghosts are gone,
As I lay silent, all too aware
That I am but one man.

She Had Grace

She had grace, but little patience
For my lack thereof.
The night of a party she'd stand before me,
Dressed in her green sequin dress
And necklace of pearls,
Look me over with her beautifully painted eyes,
And with her graceful hands, bedecked in gold rings,
She'd fix my collar,
Wipe the lint from my jacket,
And wince at a stain on my shirt
That I would have sworn was invisible.
At the party she'd practically float across the room.
From her tongue wit would spring like sharp diamonds
That never failed to pierce the hearts of the jealous and the dumb.
Oh, the look she'd give me when I would interject
With a foolish remark!
Her blue eyes were like two icy tongs around
My heart.
But later, when we'd returned home and were
Lying in bed, she'd kiss me
And let me share in her grace
Before laying her head down to sleep
And dream her unfathomable dreams.