IN the newspaper office -- who are the spooks? Who wears the mythic coat invisible? Who pussyfoots from desk to desk with a speaking forefinger? Who gumshoes amid the copy paper with a whispering thumb? Speak softly -- the sacred cows may hear. Speak easy -- the sacred cows must be fed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JANGLING MEMORY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD HOW TO BE A POET (TO REMIND MYSELF) by WENDELL BERRY AUGUST FIRST by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE MERCY OF LAZARUS by STEPHEN DOBYNS SPECIAL EFFECTS by JAMES GALVIN PROVING by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |