Virgil's Cow
Virgil's Cow
Is
drowsy as a dog in the Petit Trianon, sniffing the rim of the
sky for miraclez,
bovine taut to the Auroral R o a r. In his dreams he flies like
a pot-bellied pig
uttering
songs of undigestible beauty. Building complexcommunalnests
ofintricatelywovenvegetation like a weaverbird soured on sea tide
.
In
the tall grasses he livesin MooMoo land, listening to the muzak
of his own kazoo, under the broad-brimmed hat ofhis ownshapelyass
In
the smkehouse, where waters change to wine, grass fires & snuff
films
w/ halfclosed eyes in a seaofthyme the angels’scarlet mouths caroused
beneath myudders
-Fredrick Farryl Goodwin
About the Author
Frederick Farryl Goodwin's work has appeared in Harvard Review, The Gig's Synopticon, Margie, and Paris Transatlantic. He lives in Lunenburg, Massachusetts.
