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Black cows stand motionless in the pasture

some split in half by the broad white stripe that circles their grass fed bellies –

Clean white stripes, tempting me, begging me to scribble

my signature across for all the world to see; cows calm, still

as if posing for next year’s edition of the Lang Cow Calendar


These images frequent my mind – only to be interrupted

by the sound of sirens stories below,

racing through the streets

of the city where I try to sleep,

where I try to live –

Here life is abstract, full like the bellies of the cows; busy,

not unlike the art I represent –

Mediums blending in a gallery of lights

and dark alleyways  — discarded oil and water rushing

to hide quickly beneath one of the many steaming manhole covers –

Art in a city that never sleeps

Art in a city that depicts its own unique perspective

on the life of cows; here on canvas one can critique a blue cow,

or a multi-colored striped cow dancing beneath a black rainbow –

Here cows can stand on their head but only if they are lime green

and lem-on yellow –


Then I realize it is yet not time for the automatic coffeemaker

to start its brewing –or time for the alarm to sing me awake

with a choir of recorded songbirds  –

and I return to my full down pillow,

and I return to those images that so frequent my mind



copyrighted 2008



I watched  Night Talk last night on Bloomberg – where Mary Boone, abstract gallery art owner was a quest