Apply liberally to the affected area
Was ever my motto
The fly in the urinal
The ferrule securing the eraser
Small objects of smallness
Never had much to teach me
But I liked how the mythic river
Twisted and turned more than any river could
And hated the reduction of myth to mundane causes

Gratitude
For plenitude
And what’s a little brain damage among friends
And they must be possessed by gods or demons
These poets
To say nothing of the fiddlers and guitar players
And the women who throw pots
It held little of what the future would call value
If there ever was a devil without any horns
Must have been a furniture man

The sage decreed we must tend our garden
Bourgeois fuck
I say go to Kroger and steal a tomato
Take two pieces of bread
And several thick slices of cheddar
Melt a bunch of butter in a pan
Eat a hot grilled cheese and tomato sandwich
Where the cheese is all melty
And the tomato still holds some cold
That’s what we must
Not that there’s anything wrong with growing tomatoes
Which probably turn out better
Than the ones at Kroger
You’ll probably want to chill it the fridge
I’m a bourgeois fuck too

A griffin was never a psittacosaurus
A minotaur was never a thing
Although the one in Picasso sipping a martini was pretty cool
So don’t lose sleep over
Whether the front half or the back was bull
I imagine grabbing the tail
Of subterranean Pegasus
Furiously plowing under the St Johns riverbed
While tout-Jacksonville wonders at the source
Of that terrifying thrum