kafka beast you hard old thing
with your back as wide as a wolks vagon hood
mentioned on t v early this morn
the show about alaska was super warm
so i hitched a ride in dana’s chrysler
to the lily building’s japan room floor
found your metamorphosis translated
not at all what i anticipated
but you made me chuckle and muse right away
i finished the first few pages
and nine more at some length
distracted by dewdrops on the two-story window
until this parade of minutes dissembled
brought your tome to the table closest
sat and jotted jabbersome phrases
won’t stop now ’til half past noon
then i shall draw some goat cartoons
why should they be goats, not sheep or a kitten?
not a herd of platypi nor a jar of cattle?
who knows or cares what baaas on the hillside?
goats it is. and i shan’t reconsider
no more sketches of lamps and verandas
not chairs nor hot rods nor miniature hamburgers
must be goats whether pencils or pens
must be drawing and baaaing and drawing again
blessed be goats and hillsides and hooves
blessed be horns above towers and rooves
blessed be baaalance and bucking and gruffs
pictures of goats are lovely enoughs
Mik Augustin has performed stage poetry for 23 years. He loves to cook, eat, and drink, and often writes about food and the long-term effects of carousing. His unabashed vanity enables him to write about himself at length and in great detail in the third person. His autobiographical data is astounding. It is best to read everything he publishes. Dill gruyere baked onion rings.