meant as much to us as the cloud of dust
that passed over the town
blowing a trumpet
It blew so hard its bowler shook
and its beard stood up straight
to bite its nose
It blew so hard
its nose cracked open like a walnut
so hard the walnut spit out
way off
a little shed
where the youngest calf
retailed his mother’s milk
in bottles made of sausage skin
vulcanized by his father