POEM FOR WEDNESDAY

For ten years El Cid's cinnamon-stuffed body sat

In an ivory chair in Saint Peter's monastery.

Some monks called it "Senõr Cadaver." When

It started strutting about in their dreams

They laughed, though not unkindly. Assume

The world is to be made anew; what of this 

Should we try to keep -- perhaps the chair 

And some of the cinnamon-stained bones? 

At least one of the monks' dreams, surely. 

Perhaps two.

IT IS RELIABLY REPORTED THAT

On the 20th of January 1869, 

California larks sang “Queed-lix boodle,” 

Repeating it with great regularity

For hours together. Two days later,

In a sillier mood, they all sang

"Chee chool cheedildy choodildy.”

If the world is created again from scratch

Be careful to get this part right.

DISTANCE

If you wish to send a message

From one imagined corner

Of an infinite universe to the other

You must win the favor of the angel

Who stands there, trumpet at the ready,

And bored almost to extinction because

His sole function until just now

Has been to mark a corner which,

Strictly speaking, does not exist. You

Will doubtless have a plan; some words

To assuage his loneliness or perhaps

A series of savage blows and kicks.

Those who've given thought to the matter --

There've not been many -- recommend

Small feats of intimate magic involving

Three Jacks of Diamonds, a gudgeon,

A scarf and a handful coins so old

That their faces might show anyone.

Having won the angel's favor you next

Must ask of him some birchbark,

Oakgall, copperas and a tall feather.

Think well before you write; your message

Must be able to endure innumerable translations

And transformations without betraying itself

And, should it succeed in traveling

The uncrossable distance to the next angel

At her imaginary corner and arrive there

As a ginger-colored cat, anyone seeing it

Must know it for a cat who's come

As a message from infinitely far away.

NOMENCLATURE

Hirundo Domestica was the name of a cat I once knew

Though he answered to it seldom. His owner thought

It sounded rather Japanese and imagined her cat

Wearing elaborate kimonos while writing extremely short

But meaningful poems or else pursuing a vocation

For sumo wrestling. The cat, though, classically educated,

Knew his name was Latin for "barn swallow."

Barn swallows are the national bird of Estonia

In heraldry they signify landless younger sons.

In these facts the cat found no comfort whatsoever.

ARCHANGELS

Some say just four of the angels
Have names. Michael and Gabriel
Are in the Bible; Raphael turns up
In The Book of Tobit with crucial information
On curing blindness caused by bird poop.
Uriel apparently named herself and then
Bargained with writers for a mention
In a variety of books that did not
Make the Bible’s final cut.

A GENUINE INCIDENT ON THE ROAD TO SAINTHOOD -- A FOUND POEM, ALMOST

The monks found it 

Hard to decide;

Drown him in a sack?

Stab him with knives?

Sell him into slavery?

Or axe him in the head?

PYE

God wills Himself into being

Now and then and summons up

The shade of the late laureate 

Henry James Pye. If You're God

No one dares say "For God's sake!

Why Pye? Tennyson would bring You 

Better poetry. So would Dryden or  

Betjman or even Nahum Tate. Old Cibber,

Leaning over to whisper in Your Ear,

Might make You open Your Eyes and laugh.

But, of all poets, Pye? Why Pye?"