The Muse

(An International Journal of Poetry)

Volume-1                                         †††† december-2011                                                    Number-2






††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††† byAndrew Howe

Driving through miles and miles of dead grass, a brown

apocalypse exposing the false promise of a blue sky.

There are the locusts, however, one prophecy that seems

to hold true.  Legions rise up out of the dead fields

making war on flowers and birds and all that is beautiful.

The only hope evident at night in some distant,

elusive lights across the Marfa prairie that nobody

can seem to prove actually exist.



††††††††††††††††††††††††††† byAndrew Howe

†Thereís a rabbit in the road John road John road John

A courtesy is owed John

Find out what he wants

He seems to know your name Ken name Ken name Ken

Heís calling for the same Ken

Itís mighty disconcerting

I agree its mighty strange John strange John strange John

He must be quite deranged John

Lets get out of here

He follows mighty fast Ken fast Ken fast Ken

His legs are meant to last Ken

Gaining all the time

Why did you stop the car John car John car John

We must continue far John

Outlast his wild pursuit

He wants to talk to you Ken you Ken you Ken

Propose a peace for two Ken

Iíll leave you two and go

What do you want from me rabbit me rabbit me rabbit

Why canít you let me be rabbit

Make it short and sweet

I only want your soul Ken soul Ken soul Ken

My customary toll Ken

Then Iíll be on my way