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jrlewis's picture

I need a goat,

to eat the gifts,

of the first year of my relationship,

I thought.   



knee socks,

green and pink lemons,

a solar powered butterfly,

et cetera …


Once, I was green. 



I know better

of our growth together,

the second year of our relationship


the goat.


I will leave

the real baby goat at Bartlett’s Farm,

April Fools,




alesnick's picture

I like the way the goat works

I like the way the goat works -- from eating up relationship artifacts to being the relationship. The poem sounds . . . regretful -- looking back from a sense of loss?