Abstract
cows at night Lloyd Jacobs it is of little use to prove or disprovethe reality of an external worldexcept to know which valise to take ancients buried arms and provisionsfor the journey, postured the sojournerfor combat or for the hunt or for love the dream went on all my eighty yearsonce more I tried to shake free of itbut winding sheets entangled me until a minion of God or Satanstood above my restless bed roused meled me into the mid-summer night we stood at the meadow’s westerngate just beyond lay seven sad chewinggreat gravid passive cows dark silhouettes in rotund formthunderheads in bright moonscapedark and empty as my destination they stood in unison, gathered round melowing a tuneless fecund song untiltears wet my face. [End Page 105] Lloyd Jacobs Britton, Michigan Copyright © 2023 Johns Hopkins University Press
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