Even Rottweilers Sing
       

The grass doesn't love me though I nursed it, fussed over it in
the night like baby asparagus. Even trees show flexibility but I
can't be expected to twitter with cowbirds, give doves milk,
carry nuns in my brain. I'm from Wichita, for God's sake.

Let's save the world, even if it's only a tortilla with Mary's
face. The Ghost is my pay pal, his great fat fist a cannon, his
voice calling you home.

Listen, if you go, take a note from me and hold on, rail against
fairness, against the sun that won't stop.

Blink. It's over.

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Copyright © 2017 Tim Amsden All rights reserved
from Rattle
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission