You, the divine cow
who we milk somehow
beyond the red slaughter
inside the blue laughter
You, mutable as the seasons,
mutable as the reasons
we give for our incontenence
on all the sliding continents
You, the one big face,
desert sun full of grace;
you, the many faces–
our animal and human races
You the righteous, the deist
the pantheist, the theist,
the quietest, the atheist,
the leftest, the centrist
You the really big show
You the flow, the grow,
the foe, the average Joe
smarter than the crow
You the powerful one–
cranky, you always won;
you the line of roses
set out for sublime poses
You who make praise
meeting our duplicitous gaze,
saying this life’s no bust
lifting our road of dust
For more on Chuck Taylor, please see our Authors page.
Amarillo Bay 