In The Shadow Of The Mouse Ears

My goose is cooked and eaten to the bone.

The chorus didn’t wait for the four knights.
And they saved—ha, ha—twenty-seven days.

The chorus sees through me. I see shadows.


The internet would be a cathedral

if it were left to its own devices
and not subsidized by corporations.

But corporations like a big chorus.


Priest metaphors these days carry baggage

so it’s fitting the chorus carry swords
and a cauldron for the transparent priest.

My goose is cooked and eaten to the bone.