Today's poem is by Betsy Johnson

noyse
       

i live now. new. ideally. situated between an abattoir
and a nunnery. this is not a joke. early i hear.
the singing cow. a lament. a bawling forth that
speaks. of steak and gravy. pass the plate and
celebrate. with loud mastication. meanwhile
the nuns sing about shepherds and shelter
let's not forget pestilence and some scientists
are interested. in the secrets their holy bodies
hold. plaints cries noyse: what happens between
refuge and plague. in praise in trouble. we cry.

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Copyright © 2023 Betsy Johnson All rights reserved
from Boulevard
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission