Cough Gogh

Yessir milk is my North Star 
after all it is the Milky Way right 

poured into the galaxy’s whirling 
blender blades of light 

and dark chocolate frappé 
we sing “Say Say Say” 

until gravity is udderly teated 
open your mouth in awe 

to catch a squirt of falling star 
warm and liquid on a spring night 

let us say say say this is in 
Nebraska the State of Art 

because its picture frame shape its 
texture thick with pallet knife waves 

of corn green like Van Gogh‘s 
starry night with a million trillion 

points of mooing black and white

For Desperate Poets

7 thoughts on “Cough Gogh

  1. Plenty to milk from poems like this! No beef when starry udders are squirting. Lavish, gleaming, thick: an eye- and mouthful, specially out there on Nebraska nights, where such states of rapture are the norm. Are almost hallucinogenic and perhaps must be to achieve such purity and fullness. We’ll see. Who needs Keats for teats like these?

    Liked by 1 person

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