Return of the Fool

“Well, old man, I’m back
     From southern California.
Ah, the warm sunshine
     So delighted my senses
     That I forgot who I was.

I tried that green stuff
     Sold just about everywhere,
And guess what happened?
     Disneyland came in my brain,
     And spun me for a fast ride.

I’m back now, old friend,
     Returned to torture your mind.
Fool that I still am
     Couldn’t leave you frozen alone
     Somewhere in Montana—fool!”

Why call me fool, Fool?
     I know Bach from Beethoven,
Plato from Nietzsche,
     But I just don’t quite know yet
     Who I am, so help me, Fool!

“You, toothless wonder,
     What good is book-learnin’, dude,
Not knowing your face
     Or the old soul within you,
     And what a fool you have been!

You forgot yourself
     Without taking a long toke--
You tried to wrestle 
     A well-seasoned old cowboy
     And his rancher-woman, too,

Now look at yourself!
     Is that cow manure I see
Smeared on your back side
     Or just some mud and horse shit
     From trying to play rancher?”

You obnoxious Fool,
     Maybe I’m learning at last
To avoid manure
     When wrestling with old cowboys
     Who know how to rope a steer.

Now, my foolish friend,
     Take a drive north toward Belt,
Visit a farmer
     Whose sharp-biting bitter tongue
     And foolishness matches yours.


27 January 2020