Stick the joker to your spoken weal
Audience the euphony and muster first gear . . .

Click, cliques a click, you pedal to Pythagorus
Passerby, the cow,  penning your unelaborated think-ups!
Hay by the way . . . it gets your bull in what a ruckus!

You segueing underground now? . . .  living the sound . . . How?
Probing in the seek with that finger up your creek. . . ?
Now,   how?
No . . .  Know how!. . .the brown cow goes in all its knowingness
Smell the rounded patty in your ovens of ambiance!
But remind . . .   horsing without the ask is said ugly and arrogant!

Some clapped, some spat . . . Still, we quarrel over beans!
And what vegetable will you be in your next being?
What bovine doesn’t lie when the rains come streaming sin?

Okay, now my cycle is all wet and I’m riding in a puddle . . .
Mud spit, cow shit . . . No, I’m not befuddled!
Throw the wight limen’s at me!. . .  in the thresholds of my silence
As I ride up to doorsteps,  on the edge. . .
Heavens! . . .must I return to Hellenes for more struggles?

Rarefaction does have the best of us!
Please, make some order out of this udder chaos!
In this eternal belligerency of opposites,  moo low, let loose and free the cattle!
Ride with me, rurally, thru these provincial pastureland’s grazing on every field of battle!

Inherited guilt stems from Siberian shamans
Where sprawling trees reach out to any fisherman!
There . . .   on the banks of darkness, see the Holstein’s patching as an ordinance of time, contrasting light. . .
Where everything stilled always stood for black and white!
For the love of wisdom, honor and gain . . .  well . . .  that being stilled,  remains cud . . .
Savoring for the latter, rung by ring as church bells ding
For ALL the cows to come home!

Moo-over and out . . .   I gotta flat in the city!

Copyright 2009
Kimmy Van Kooten