A new poem
I love
the word beauty
and the beauty
adduced from it,
its italy and egypt
of enumerated sins.
In school
I studied mathematics,
wherein two cows
with glaucous eyes
are sent to measure
the bride’s nobility
their broomstick smelling
of urine and rice.
He was the sort of poet
who said to his beloved
you stay in bed and I’ll
go get some eggs
for twenty years
he has been getting eggs
I’ve gotten used to asking
an egg of the cow
waiting for him the bed still warm