Brilliant Poetry

A Pedantry
Many of the great men—Buddha, Saint Augustine,
Jefferson, Einstein—had a woman and child
they needed to ditch. A little prologue
before the great accomplishments could happen.

From nothing came this bloody turnip
umbilicaled to the once-beloved,
only now she's transformed like a Hindu god
with an animal snout and too many limbs.

You'd rather board a steamer with chalk dust on your pants
or sit under a bo tree and be pelted by flaming rocks,
renounce the flesh
or ride off on a stallion—

there is no papoose designed for such purposes,
plus the baby would have to be sedated.
Sorry.
We don't want the future to fall into the hands of the wrong -ists!

That's how civilization came into being
for us who remained in the doorways of here,
our companions those kids who became chimney sweeps, car thieves,
and makers of lace.

By day we live in the shadows of theories; by night
the moon holds us in its regard
when it doesn't have more important business
on the back side of the clouds.