She arrived,
expecting me to be
delighted
She must have known
I’d been sipping her
fragments for years—
the slender volume of
a classmate’s
She made herself
at home immediately—
cat-curl in front of the hearth,
asked for some wine and papyrus,
muttered something about
another damn exile and
promptly fell asleep
I wrote her the usual love letter
Be out by Thursday,
tucked it into her toga
and went off for an
extended holiday to Kansas
with Li Po –
I prefer his wine and I’d rather
fall out of a boat than
jump off a cliff—
I haven’t yet figured out how to fly
but still know how to swim
through any kind of water,
any kind of friendship
After Reading that Cows Have BFF’s
Heart rates,
cortisol levels,
the rhythms of
cud in 4/4
Tale of tails with
swishing of flies
We’ve got history
And udders
The magic of
bovine bond
So when the scientists are
nowhere to be found,
lean against me,
tell me a milky secret or two
that can’t be documented
and let me breathe again
your sweet sweet
clover breath
