Parading

Down Sally Cow Lane and Elsewhere

In the flowering trees

to flap your arms and cry out, to give
the birds take up their indifferent, elegant cries.
the birds take up their indifferent, elegant cries.
Look around. Perhaps it isn’t too late
Look around. Perhaps it isn’t too late
to make a fool of yourself again. Perhaps it isn’t too late
to make a fool of yourself again. Perhaps it isn’t too late
to flap your arms and cry out, to give
to flap your arms and cry out, to give
one more cracked rendition of your singular, aspirant song. —Charlie Smith
one more cracked rendition of your singular, aspirant song.
—Charlie Smith

atoms

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