ANOTHER

I'd hired a space for the poem. Its personnel –

The poet William Cowper, Bill Monroe, a raven –

Would arrive later. I thought Monroe, who was ornery,

Might get along with Cowper, who was mad

And also -- for no particular reason -- eternally damned.

I still think that poem might have been good

(There'd have been some slow bluegrass music 

And the raven had agreed to dance a few steps).

Then Cowper got lost on the way, ending somehow

Hunched miserably in a corner of Valhalla, and Monroe

Refused to do a poem co-starring a raven.

The raven took a rain-check and, in the end,

We used God, my grandfather, two dogs and a cat.