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Smoking Grass

Jolley, an aging brown & white cow
roamed parched-Sacramento Delta fields –
She was tired of giving milk every day,
did not look forward to F.D.A.'s
slaughterhouse retirement package,
final days spent in-line & waiting for a slug
in-the-head to come, that's not for Jolley.

brown cow

One day, at milking-time, beast prayer hour,
Jolley spoke with Robert S. DeRopp,
a part time “milker” on Leary Farm
who once wrote about sacred mushrooms
& hallucinogenic properties which helped
even “has been” cows become landed-aristocrats,
like heartbroken Lev,
in & out of Anna Karenin's epic world.

Presto..., Jolley took hits on DeRopp's stuff,
suddenly cows had wings, with no human purpose.
There won't be any profit anymore in Jolley's flesh,
she took deep-flight into Sacramento Delta field,
a Labor Angel appeared, warned, “trouble's on way,
beef stock soared, a good time for beasts to get away.”
Only one path open for Jolley, there were no Egypts,
she knocked-over a camper's kerosene lantern,
a great fire appeared across California sky,
a Trinity mushroom cloud seen as far as Kyoto,
Jolley inhaled smoke, held-it in for 5-seconds,
took communion with St. John of the Cross.

Suddenly, Jolley's blonde, goofy, spoke Mandarin,
she's wrapped in flame-colored Zen.
For an instant, she tasted mother's milk,
and the field burned to its nature –
My Jolley..., her lips contorted, tasted fire,
she lay down, Moon ready to turn full,
wondered if she'll ever get milked again,
her thick eyelids closed, a buzzed-resignation.
Jolley's hallucinogen professor emeritus,
a final MOO heard throughout Delta field,
Opiate dogmatics taught to American peasantry.

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chuck orloski

Charles Orloski

Saturday, 27 July 2013