Standing here I am a fountain
signing the lawn with my fountain pen
I am a fountain because of beer
standing by the hedge
Busch unto bush
(amen)
Beer has a will to make us all fountains
a dream of wet parks
A god turning men into dogs
leg-lifter
leg-sniffers
letting piss fall
letting lying dogs
lay
Yet I am different from the park statues
I don't piss from my eyes or toes
(though I may piss to my toes)
I could not will not piss all day
Marble-filled heads confuse plumbing and fixtures
Beer knows them distinctly
the shortest distances
And a kindly god
even if you don't make it
even if your zipper sticks
even if you soak your pants
Don't worry
Beer doesn't stain
You could be soaked with rain
(Is rain the urine of angels?
Remember that when you run in the rain
Close your mouth!)
But watch for the cops
The fullness of beer is beyond them
They would have you burst or drown
Now Oh Lord this emptiness is wonderful
Without ballast I could float away
Beware
The eagle has flown the stars are out
If you can't find me in the morning
search the skies
I am empty and complete
David Swoyer
Contents | Mudlark No. 1
The Visitor Came One Morning | Rime
for a Chicago Cow