Ode To Allen Cohen

by Don Brennan (5/24/04)


I didn't know you well,
Just by reputation, a founder of the Oracle.

Who read once at Yakety Yak dressed
Head to toe in tie dye, and I concluded
That you, like me,
Are a man in love with nasturtiums.

A man who might withdraw from the thought
Of nasturtiums flooding the hillsides, that you
Might bruise them or do them harm, but Allen,
Why not plow through the orange and the red
Velvet sea in your rubber soled boots?

Flowers are as insane and brilliant as you, and as
The occasional butterfly spinning outside your
Window to escape an updraft (surely
The maddest of us all).

It is brilliance that makes us insane, so do your
Own dance, pirouette your own escape because
The hillside is your home and a crushed flower
Harbors no resentment.

The nasturtium's madness
Is but a paramour's impatience.
Waiting for the lovemaking of wayward insects
Is a prelude to death's ecstasy
For those who flood the hillsides.


© Don Brennan. All rights reserved.

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