the cursor blinks

the cursor blinks, my cow mind chews      
gum like cud, hands rub eyes,      
a tired mind with nothing to say,      
squeaky chair, who cares? aching      
back sits up, squeaky chair again,      
the squeak  now is very important,      
pay attention, significant like the      
red wheel barrow, or was it a wagon      
(not everything really depends on it)    
but the squeak and the tip taping rhythm of    
the hammering of the keys (this fellow is    
on to something  here) glazed (we only use    
that word for  donuts now) with rain water,    
i have to stop  before we get to the chickens    
because they  were white which of course makes    
me cry every time and beside i have to pee  anyway
and  the mooing cow is jumping over the yellow one butt  
cheek cheeky moon mooning through the  
pain of the night's window and i can only take so  
god damn much beauty for one night