Tuesday, January 6, 2009

country



the cool thing about living
in the country
is you can see animals
and land
and changing leaves
you can sing
old mcdonald had a farm
and time it
so when you say
he had a cow
there they are
with a moo moo everywhere
and when you say
he had a goat
there they are
and you can throw in tigers
with a roar roar here
and a roar roar there
and the landscape is
so much more interesting
specially if you're on
a long road trip
and your mom says
she'll give you a quarter
for every white horse you see
with a neigh neigh here
and sometimes
you can pull over
to stretch your legs
and get up close
and pet the animals
feed the goats
and you're dad says
he'll give you a dollar
for every elephant you see
it keeps you on your toes
scanning the countryside
singing old mcdonald had a farm
instead of mcdonalds has
fatty foods.

1 comment:

  1. For a Dancer

    Damn near got my arm broke
    The Uncle on Stillwater objected
    my glib evaluation of
    yet another old elder
    face in black and white and regalia

    Backwards over the chair
    The arm wrestle
    did not go well

    Early
    I climbed up the shaky ladder
    into that dry rising Nevada sun to put a new roof on his shed
    while he was inside making a turquoise and
    Cornflower necklace for me

    I was once the snake bearer
    In the basket and under the boa
    was a bottle of tequila cleverly concealed
    where no one would ever look

    She called him He

    He danced with her
    draped over her shoulders
    head on one arm
    tail on the other
    a certain unity of spirit
    as I sat aside with
    the basket and
    the bottle

    He poked his head in a knothole
    in a back room at the belly dance place
    wouldn’t come out
    it was only later I learned
    snakes can only go forward
    they do not go back

    The shed roof is probably gone
    as is the shed I guess
    so is the necklace
    Like life and snakes
    we don’t go back
    just remember the spent echoes
    of the old dry skins
    long ago shed and faded
    some black and white regalia
    memories

    And the long gone footprints of
    a gypsy dancer


    (Remember me? jdublyou@sbcglobal.net)

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