This morning
I felt strong and jaunty in my
mail order Israeli commando trousers.
Up at Hard Luck Ranch I spoke to the ravens
in baritone, fed the cats with manly gestures. Acacia
thorns can’t penetrate these mighty pants, then
out by the corral the infant pup began to
weep, abandoned. In an instant
I became another of the
Earth’s billion sad
mothers.