The Daily Me

Surrounded by advancing, devil-dancing pygmy cannibals, Jungle Jim saves the blonde bombshell by conveniently recalling The Information Please Almanac's prediction of the total eclipse of the sun one minute before it occurs... just in time to deliver the climactic ultimatum: "You no lay-ee down weapons? Me take-ee way sun!"

And the rest, of course, is campy, cinematic history -
But thus did I begin to romance
the grandeur of the Celestial Clockworks

And finally, at long, long last
as foretold in the tom-toms
of our ancient astronomic
calendars and codices
there came to pass
along the 45th parallel
on my seventeenth swing
'round the summer sun

a total eclipse in my time-space continuum
turning downtown Dexter into a Mayan Mecca
swollen with sun-worshipping eclipse-chasers
offering up sacrifices of dance and joyful noise,
exotic pilgrims from the seven seas posturing
their Pentaxes and pilgrimatics in
a United Nations' shutterbug encampment
pitched in a forest of transient tripods -

But on a mile-away farm I get to feel first-hand
the Apocalyptic Horseman approach of totality...
witness the wondrous and clumsy panic of
cattle lurching hurriedly for the mid-day barn
before the rapidly falling Old Testament dark
and they're confused as any
silver-screen headhunters whose world
the gods have damned to annihilation

And a chill like
the Shadow of Death
in this noon-black midnight
generates (even in me)
an unexpected
God fearing - and then

The cows are plodding back to pasture
the salmon sky grows blue again
and somewhere...

a rooster crows

Sincerely, Tom Lyford
poetry at

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