“Dissent Amongst the Cows”
“Dissent amongst the cows is what it is.
We’re lost out here, my friend, and if we take a step
Back a day or two or perhaps an hour to what we stepped in when we swept
Aside the bull we ask at last where he got his ribbons. This
Last first deep silence in the shallows is the reply that gives us clout,
That margin’s full of error, just a scratch that leads to blood and niggling feelings
Sending all who contemplate the Market and the Mayan Calendar reeling
Sideways to something more than beef and less than doubt.
We’ve asked the magic question and here in time receive
The latest wounds and bulletins in brain disease: “We oppose what
Isn’t there or what’s expressed in mass superlatives, and seconds cut
To save the scions of denial not so hidden in the artificial hay, conceive
Freely and at the ready for an oddly specious fact
Expressed upon the cud, at best inured because
we form the chorus to delight Jocasta caught smiling in the act!”
I also had a brother who was like me a musician and a composer. A man of great talent, far more gifted than I. He died very young
… he killed himself in the prime of his life.
[7 July 1860 – 18 May 1911]
Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired,
signifies in the final sense a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed.
President Dwight David Eisenhower
[October 14, 1890 – March 28, 1969]