who wins the skirmish when no one dies
clever old fool you managed to chain one
of the oldest deathless ones whose job was
death which screwed up the works since he
couldn’t work so how can we eat when
a week later the chicken’s head
still begs for grain it cannot store or how
do we please these greatest and most
fickle gods when a hundred perfect
oxen with golden horns embossed with blood
cannot take their rest and the sheep slipping
on its intestines tomorrow shakes its
head and bleats at you again and through the
night so you see the boulder was justice
Tag: sheep
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On Dry Land
The problem in rolling
out over the ocean
on a day like you might
ache for just a single
sheep of traveling cloudonly a few blinks
and the wind you are
worse off now without
taste birds circle
maybelater that one friendly
star and now paddle
with meaning maybe
you were going
the bright way all along
other animals 