Cows In Art Class

good weatheris likegood women-it doesn't always happenand when it doesit doesn'talways ismore stable:if he's badthere's more chancehe'll stay that way,or if he's goodhe might hangon,but a womanis changedbychildrenagedietconversationsexthe moonthe absence orpresence of sunor good times.a woman must be nursedinto subsistenceby lovewhere a man can becomestrongerby being hated.

I am drinking tonight in Spangler's Barand I remember the cowsI once painted in Art classand they looked goodthey looked better than anythingin here.

I am drinking in Spangler's Barwondering which to love and whichto hate, but the rules are gone:

I love and hate onlymyself-they stand outside melike an orange dropped from the tableand rolling away; it's what I've got todecide: kill myself orlove myself?which is the treason?where's the informationcoming from? books…like broken glass:

I wouldn't wipe my ass with 'emyet, it's gettingdarker, see? (we drink here and speak toeach other andseem knowing.) buy the cow with the biggesttitsbuy the cow with the biggestrump. present arms. the bartender slides me a beerit runs down the barlike an Olympic sprinterand the pair of pliers that is my handstops it, lifts it,golden piss of dull temptation,

I drink andstand therethe weather bad for cowsbut my brush is readyto stroke upthe green grass straw eyesadness takes me all overand I drink the beer straight downorder a shotfastto give me the guts and the love "poems written before jumping out of an 8 story window" - 1966