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28 April 2012 @ 07:14 pm
Butter by Andrea Cohen  

I’ve never seen the land
of milk and honey, but at

the Iowa State Fair I glimpsed
a cow fashioned of butter.

It lived behind a window
in an icy room, beneath klieg lights.

I filed past as one files
past a casket at a wake.

It was that sad: a butter cow
without a butter calf. Nearby I spied

a butter motorcycle, motorcycle-
sized, a mechanical afterthought

I thought the cow might have liked to ride.
You don’t drive a motorcycle; you ride it.

But not if you’re a butter cow, not
if you’re a butter cow who’s seen, if

not the land of milk and honey, the land
of milk, and dwelled within it.

It had a short life span, the butter cow.
Before it died, I looked

deep into its butter eyes. It saw
my butter soul. I could

have wept, or spread myself,
for nobody, across dry toast.
I'm feeling: peacefulpeaceful
Kcatkcatalyst on April 29th, 2012 12:04 am (UTC)
Ohio beats Iowa. OUR butter cow has a butter calf. And some butter heads of football players, to keep them company, in a macabre, jingoist sort of way.
eestiplika on April 29th, 2012 01:55 am (UTC)