Putting faux blues to pasture:
Now’s bad news is
Ilk. All hell.
Worse.
But Sow’s ear can turn
Silk (all belle)
Purse.
Doubt gnaws and qualm pecks.
Calm quacks cut bad checks.
Calm gives me pause to vex:
No cause,
no hex.
A pig in a poke’s
Egg grows. It chokes
The unleashed hopes
Of skeptics.
Chicken folks.
Scramble and fry one
So it burns and smokes.
No yolks,
no yokes.
Fly the cubicle coop,
Staunch emu of aha!
Ditch your foul inner twin,
Whistle, and viola!
Cow’s good news is
Milk, all swell.
Nurse.
[12-11-03 Santa Rosa, CA]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem