Tails on the cattle are
busy with insects, but
I saw happy wags and
love, bovine care, passion,
while sicking myself from
murdering a bird, the pain
glued to the radiators
in my stomach, and Harry,
he shook her, snapped her
neck and what choice
did I have, her last swallows
of universe, shouting me down
in heart stop time, as I may
not eat steak, as like
a vicious crow, I dive
back to my nest, waiting for
a shovel to end me.
Too, so soon, too.
stillfugue 
#1 by clinock on May 26, 2016 - 1:59 am
Number one it’s so wonderful to hear you again. Did you have adventures? I dig you on so many levels when you speak out…Number 2, I want to follow your poetry and yet at this now I become lost in your maze of words, a failed Theseus.. I follow the imagery but need a guide to everything else…
#2 by Carl on May 27, 2016 - 8:02 am
I’m so lucky for your kindness! A large block was keeping me under the covers for almost two years, but I’ve decided it’s okay to be bad at poetry if it helps my spirits. You could not fail with your great wisdom. If I can write something that creates meaning for a reader, it doesn’t matter to me if it is the same as mine.
#3 by Kay Camden on May 30, 2016 - 4:01 pm
What a pleasant surprise to see your writing show up in my inbox again. It’s been too long. Hope things have been good. Looking forward to more.
#4 by Carl D'Agostino on June 17, 2016 - 2:40 pm
Oh, posting again. Missed your work.
#5 by simonhlilly on July 7, 2016 - 3:32 am
Very, very, very good!
#6 by Carl on July 8, 2016 - 9:56 am
Thank you so much! I appreciate your kindness.
#7 by Carl D'Agostino on August 2, 2016 - 6:27 am
I am finding a degree of acceptance and serenity as I age and approach death. I worry so much about the ills of the world and fret over possible tragedy for my kids and grandchildren. Death lifts the burden.
#8 by Evelyn on October 27, 2016 - 10:51 am
“her last swallows
of universe,”
like its bad medicine…