AND SO WE BEGIN SAM CEISLER
Ever seen beauty, Beauty? What did they sell us? The door keeps getting smaller But at least the sun is shining Spring passed on a 72 degree February day We put a picture on the internet Followed it all with a drunken shower And I was still recovering when I caught my flight What a shame we’re not the same Keith and Kenny, Richards and Rogers respectively, John and Joe, Coltrane and Cocker respectively, It seemed they had it figured out But so did that damned horse Coltrane That fidgety horse in the third stall, from high school, from that job on the farm Was it a farm? That damned ornery horse, and that woman who liked to ride him In Audis and fresh coats and pressed breeches Their polished hooves clicking against the mats While I slip soundlessly Horse shit in the soles of my Chippewa boots I, the new American. The same as the old American. The Quiet American. The Ugly American. They, the new Englishmen, the new Englishwomen, and their ornery bloody Horses. In the winter I had to break Coltrane’s buckets when they iced over The illegal grooms and I working barehanded Gloves drying in the vents of the barn heater And after work I’d go home to a warm shower The Middle Class High School American
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