PLANET LOVE

Standard

The wheel is spinning fire

into my soul

while out behind the barn

a lamb

is dropped into the frozen muck

from the womb of its mother.

I could laugh

or cry

at this loving sin of existence

where heroes come to us

in cereal boxes

(or cow stables)

and our highest flight of reason

amounts to

“I don’t know”.

Yes, Coyote, I understand

and thank you

for another

paradoxical day

on Planet Love.

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