Two for the Bounteous Mother

Dipped her finger in the glass
maybe not today
the spheres rose
the plumbing thawed
painted her home in a picture frame
cow behind the barn in the trash
the milking machine hums “shoobee-doo”
& the nun-shaped mountains go
“there was a lover & his lass”
all up & through the passes
orbs resonating
The door swings in the empty chalet
On a rocking horse against the state
one who is nobody accepts hospitality.

*

Orchid eyes. These were extracted
Never fucked the same but could lead the lyre
& swallowed each scrap
with a "hey-nonny-no” for the ear
His topic was everything — and the JEW in the moon
QED melted down to a
rubber hairtrigger contraption
of Vulcan mooncalf extraction
Still born, dreary, but still here
in the university
Observing me grow slack, sticky-fingered
George Herbert buttoned his collar
& stopped masturbating.