Milk Run

 

This poem is dairy-free, except for the title.

 

You said, it’s no use

crying over spilled silk

when the caravan was ransacked outside Samarkand.

 

And the caravaneers

you said, had been bilked

of human kindness by the raiding outlaw band.

 

They never came to Samarkand

They never came to Samarkand

No bricks and honey in the promised land.

 

Wherever you go

you know I would follow

cross the sky on that bridge they call the Wilkie Way.

 

I’d dance on a log

I’d sleep in a hollow

I’d drink a glass of malted milt that salmon lay.

 

Some day we’ll come to Samarkand

Some day we’ll come to Samarkand

Bagels, lox, and dream cheese in the promised land.

 

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