(with thanks and apologies to Allen Ginsberg)
I saw the best goats of my generation destroyed by farmers,
bleating hysterical pronking,
dragging themselves through fields at dawn looking
for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters following behind them, an ancient heavenly
connection to the espresso machines on sleepy Sunday urban streets,
who scruffy and stubborn and hungry and high sat up chewing
in the supernatural darkness of Alabama valleys, floating
across the tops of barns contemplating Patsy Cline,
who bared their tiny horns to Heaven under the electric fence and saw
antebellum angels staggering on ramshackle roofs illuminated,
who passed through fairgrounds with radiant cool eyes
hallucinating Georgia and Faulkner-tragedy among the
scholars of agriculture,
who were expelled from the dairies for crazy & ramming
each other on the hard bones of the skull,
who gathered under shade trees, near water troughs, under the bad Alabama sun
bleating hysterical pronking,
dragging themselves through fields at dawn looking
for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters following behind them, an ancient heavenly
connection to the espresso machines on sleepy Sunday urban streets,
who scruffy and stubborn and hungry and high sat up chewing
in the supernatural darkness of Alabama valleys, floating
across the tops of barns contemplating Patsy Cline,
who bared their tiny horns to Heaven under the electric fence and saw
antebellum angels staggering on ramshackle roofs illuminated,
who passed through fairgrounds with radiant cool eyes
hallucinating Georgia and Faulkner-tragedy among the
scholars of agriculture,
who were expelled from the dairies for crazy & ramming
each other on the hard bones of the skull,
who gathered under shade trees, near water troughs, under the bad Alabama sun
burning their hay in oil barrels and listening to the Terror from the pig barn.
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