Again, the acolytes of Stupid God
Think to take into their hands the rod
With which to beat down others to the sod
That they may think them tall and mighty folk,
Even as they bend beneath the yoke
To bear the Stupid God. They are a joke
Told to a sober audience that stands
And does not laugh at loud-voiced drunks’ demands
Which, being met, despoil common lands
And legacies that would to children go.
How doubtful, now, that children e’er will know
What could have been! Instead, they now will grow
To forms far less than promise once had said,
Forced to go where Stupid God has led.

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I feel myself becoming a bullfrog again
Or the namesake of one whose friends raid the wine cellars
Croaking madly disregarded in one of the many places where
Eagles fly
This one seated by a flinty river in a whitewashed limestone land

The fait accompli is in place
The thing already done
And I know what is coming
Have seen the sadness that will follow
But I cannot say too much about it

Frogs are easily trodden underfoot
Though they know more of the crowding flies than most
And it is of small things whizzing through the air my croaking warns
And others’ croaking

I hope that I am wrong
I know that I am not
And there is no blessing to follow after this hope
The coming croaking gives the lie to Pope

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Now Zibethicus commands a horde,
Ondatran menace striking up discord
As raveners with citrus, growing bored,
Look for some new distraction from their pain.
Even so, they dance in the long train
That Stupid God still leads, without refrain,
And in which the Stupid God does still delight,
Stumbling through each day into each night
And back again. The everlasting plight
Afflicts us all, both those who do not dance
And those who after Stupid God will prance
And, ass-like, bray upon the merest chance.
That which those donkeys pull behind, abjure,
Along with Stupid God and all its spoor.

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As the small snare drum sounds a tight roll again
Tiny xylophone or glockenspiel accompanying it
My hand reaches out to add a single percussive beat
And do a little better than John Cage
Though I have never been able to do the splits
And my sunglasses are kept in the car

There is never enough time to take the time
And I really ought not to interrupt the performance
Making it stop and start again is no good thing for the gigging
It is better for me if I simply leave off spectation
Having other things to do in plenty
And my own practice to which to attend

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Today is not the day
Of course
There’s another coming
And even if it were the day
So much would be true

It isn’t for all
Of course
Because some are at their ends
Today and every day
But there are yet others
Who will
And must
Go on

Retrospection is in season
Of course
Little endings prompting looking back
And thoughts of how to do better moving forward
But most of us will simply
Go on as we have been
Regretting doing so a little
Until we forget that we were doing that
Again

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Sitting with cups of coffee ready to hand
While the birds have barely begun their chorus
And other creatures stalk near-silent
Through the lifting darkness
I read
I write
Neither as much as I might like
Both as much smiling as remains in me

I am a thief
And prodigal
Taking more such moments for me than is likely my due
Spending them frivolously and to no good end
But I have asked no inheritance
Even if I might have to herd swine
And I am the elder brother, anyway

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The break was good
With lots of food
And friendly company
But there’s a price
It won’t be nice
To pay, I expect to see

The work goes on
When I will don
My holiday attire
And piles rise
Before my eyes
Atop my desk yet higher

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I imagine they thought they were being helpful
Those programmers
Putting in the new features that
Suggest ideas from which to write
Because writer’s block is a thing
And it does beset all of us who
Fix words in order
Sometimes

But
And there is always a but
And there is almost always a butt
And sometimes it is what voices the
Things you hear
I wonder who they think
Those programmers
Their target audience is
Who they think will use this platform
And to what end
Who will be different from them
Because we all know
We
All
Know
That the only worthwhile knowledges are
How to code
And
How to get their money
And
Anyone who does anything else
Really can’t be that smart

All this is to say
Having a spur is useful
But sometimes
You’re not riding a horse

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