A Goliard Poem by Morgan Michaels

Posed now to swing
back to where it started-
back to its frilly beginning,
frost, gravity- everything, overcome,
the season's yellow pendulum:
We'd grow bored with you, too, Spring,
you can be sure,
(for we do tire of everyone and thing)
and well might find you muddlesome
but that you bring
pie-eyed bunnies with pink noses; Does
tripping timidly 'cross the road
underwater rumblings and the un-noisome
predicton of roses;
cowslips and cuckoos that sing
coocoocachoo- I'm talking t' you, ya bum- '
and you reply 'I, Yankay, am Spring-
avoid me like the plague, do not be dumb,
or join my merriment-
with each jilted lover, one's made merrier-
maybe even more. So, caveat amator-
enjoy my green beginning
whereyousoeverare. And why not?
Cool, now, t'will soon be panting hot.