Neither of the old men were born under the sign Pisces
They were playing chess as hard as they dared
Neither enjoying it like a person born under Pisces would
A Pisces lets things flow naturally, not making trouble
Taking the easiest stream possible, not paddling their canoe
These two old men were arguing, bickering, grousing.
Not picking up on the feelings of a Pisces in any way
Acting like Taurus the Bull. I did not ask them their birthdates.
My suspicions were confirmed by their intense arguments.
The Hunter rises in the night sky,
Taurus the bull, the target nearby.
His dogs are chasing, not able to catch,
Maybe another plan, Orion should hatch.
Was he put in the sky, for boasting too much,
About the animals he could kill, with his arrow's touch.
Or maybe killed by a scorpion's bite,
Could it be Artemis, with the arrow's might.
One of the many Greek myths, easily seen,
Along with some of the greatest legends there's been
So beautiful to watch as he rises high,
Could Orion be the 'God Constellation' of the sky?
I'm a space cowboy
riding imaginary horses
with black light saddles
herding cows in my closet
my six shooter is my finger
making bullet sounds with my lips...
My ten gallon hat
filled with false optimism
borrowed from a circus clown
in a barnyard outhouse...
My posse are ghost riders
in the milky way
we lasso Taurus the bull
and have shoot outs
with villains
shaped as shadows
on the star dust trail....
~ ~ ~
April 14, 1865
A chilled southern wind
Lincoln's last hours
Our American Cousin...
John Wilkes Booth
born: May 10, 1838
Taurus the bull
claimed he had too great a soul
to die like a common criminal...
April 26, 1865
shot rang out
hands held above chest
tell mother I died for country
these hands, useless...useless..
~ ~ ~ ~