Shakespeare in the Shower
I almost fall asleep underneath the pine. But I can’t. I have too many responsibilities. My wife, her wife, and all our children and, hopefully someday, all their children too. As I spring up, preparing to head back to it all and everything, a cow nearly runs me over. I catch myself on the pine. He pivots back towards me and leers at me with torrid eyes. There’s a dung beetle on his back and on the dung beetle’s back, a tiny cow. They’re a very odd couple, especially on the back of a cow. I wonder if there’s an even smaller dung beetle on that small cow’s back, but my eyesight isn’t good enough to see something that small. I start to worry as the cow edges back towards me in a mysterious way. But, then, the cow walks on past. He and his compatriots leave me. My mouth grows dry from all this, and I’m having trouble remembering if it is my wife or my wife’s wife that knows the remedy for a dry mouth.
Evan Cozad is a poet from Indiana. His work has been featured a few places across the web. He tweets @realEvanCozad.