As the arrow flies, one day may as well be another, or,
as Janis Joplin famously said,
It’s all the same fucking day, man.
Quiver that: As the crow flies,
the vantage is much better, and fields
with fences turn to calendars—days into
haystacks, weeks into rows of corn.
You could put up a murder of relish.
Hush. As the Monarch flies, all the days
spread out like spilled honey,
glowing and sweet, creeping slow
and sticking to your wings.
If you got it today, you don’t wear it tomorrow, man.
***
This poem is the fifth in my marathon of poems (plus 3.8) for Tupelo Press’s cool fundraising project 30/30. You can view the poems I and the other “runners” submit every day during the month of March, at
http://tupelopress.wordpress.com/3030-project/.
Please follow our work, and if you find it even the slightest bit entertaining, engaging, thought-provoking, or just generally worthy, donate to Tupelo Press, an independent literary publisher. Sponsor me by entering T. Thibodeaux Baar in the “in honor of” line on the donation form, which you can find here:
https://www.tupelopress.org/donate.php
(Scroll down; it’s a form!)
Thanks for stopping by! I am happy to hear from you via email or comments.
LouLou (the main monkey)
