The Giant

And on the morning of the first, Tuesday’s garden
a bird sings it’s songs
and the worms go into hiding
the spell caster sugar coming down from the sky
sweetens the deal before the chrysalids of spring
a crumpled up letter gets dropped into the mailbox
of Tuesday’s snoring giant

up on Mount Hindoo

delivered from the pouch of a courier kangaroo
The giant’s gait is a huge irritation
to the mere science of land, and particularly, irrigation
as he sits up to his table
he bangs his great head
which, to a giant, of course
means a great headache
so he picks up his great spoon to dig into his goatmeal
but sees his reflection - and weeps - no less than a river
of tears - into his bowl
For he’s heartbroken
because he knows what we know
but he knows it bigger
that a man will take your wallet
but a dog will save your life
and a  woman will steal your soul
and your friends will all laugh
and the devil will borrow your red pants

in time for perdition’s ball
and although he’s just a lonely giant
he feels it..

   greatest of all