You walked with Jane
as you passed by
the water tower
she talked

of the various breeds
of cattle
there were some
for meat

others for milk
some for both
she pointed out
some cows

in a field nearby
and told you
their breed
have you ever seen

a calf born?
she said
no
you said

not seen anything
like that
let's go to the farm
I think they have a cow

that is due to drop
she said
so you turned up
the drive

that led to the farm
where you worked
some evenings
after school

or at weekends
she walked and talked
you listened
looking at her

dark hair tied back
with a green ribbon
her dark eyes shone
with sunlight

you looked away
at that moment
watching the farm dog
pass by

with its one good eye
(it had bitten you once
and you were wary of it)
a cowman

was at the side
of a shed
clearing out
has the new calf

been born yet?
she asked
he looked at her
then at you

no not yet
he said
but should be soon
want to watch then?

he said
gazing at you
kind of grinning
yes

Jane said
Benedict here
hasn't seen a birth
oh of course

these Londoners
haven't nought
he said
hang about a moment

and we'll go across
he said
you looked at Jane
she was silent

looking around the farm
have you seen
a calf being born?
you asked

many times
she said
ever since
I could stand

I’ve been near
cattle and sheep
I know most breeds
of both

she added softly
after a few minutes
the cowman walked
you both over to the cowshed

over the yard
and opened up
the half door
there she is

he said
waiting to drop
you and Jane
peered over

the half door
at a cow by the wall
looking at you
disinterestedly

her tail flapping
away flies
shouldn't be long now
the cowman said

never seen
a calf born then?
he said to you
no not yet

you said
don't suppose
you Londoners
see much of cows

he said smiling
no not at all in London
you said
he looked at Jane

then at the cow
which was standing still
making noises
then moving

then standing still again
I was about 5
when my old dad
took me to see

a calf born
the cowman said
all that blood and stuff
near made me

want to puke
first time
you looked at Jane
her hands

on the door top
her eyes focused
on the cow
she had on blue jeans

and boots
and a yellowy top
with small bulges
of *******

there she goes
the cowman said
and you gazed
at the cow

and a head appeared
as if by magic
out of the rear
of the cow

and it hung there
momentarily
then it slid out
and dropped

to the straw filled floor
covered in blood
and stuff
and the cow

licked the calf
and you watched
fascinated
at the new life

laying there
moving
the cow licking
the legs moving

the head turning
that's how it is
the cowman said
easy one that

and you moved closer
to Jane
smelling her scent
her warmth near you

her arm next to yours
what will you call it?
Jane asked
don't know yet

the cowman said
might call it Benedict
if it's a bull calf
and Jane

if it's a heifer
he smiled at you both
and opened up
the lower door

and went in
then closed it up again
there you are
she said

now you've seen
a calf born
you nodded
and you walked back

out of the yard
and up the drive
let's go back to my house
she said

Mum'll give us
tea and cake
and we can tell her
about the calf  

ok
you said
walking beside her
sensing her nearness

her hand close to yours
you wanting to hold it
but not doing so
walking there

beneath the sun's
warmth and glow.

The cow jumped over the moon.
Udderly de-fence-less..

for the ladies who liquid lunch

<>

the finest young women of the wild west,
(the best of course just might be in Texas)
don’t always get educated in the things best,
no private schools, so somethings sometimes,
like the upscale training of the taste buds,
must be learned on the job, training the palate,
by growing up, self+taught, thank god, yes!

<>

your salty taste
reminds me of ruffled potato chips, bugles, beef jerky
and
your very own brand of
loving tears

it’s true you know,
impossible to eat
just one, which is
why my tonguing
of your body parts,
is unceasingly seizing

I will always be found
attached unbreakably,
to your moving image,
moving inside of me

so sweet your salt,
it’s your story,
your flavored lives living on
in poems unnamed, to disguise
but the authorship of whom,
in body, in mind, so obvious,
cause in all your poems is a tangy
salty

impossible to eat just one

****
<>
p.s. you tease me mean,
cowman,

bbq and béarnaise,
sassafras and edible petals,
molasses and kosher salt,
ingredient combination
which of course
you just made up,
so I show my appreciation
biting your arm so my permanent
teeth marks,
will remind me,
and you too,
just how salty
biting Texas heifers who
can or cannot be salt cured
when
it’s their turn to write some
real good tasting
poetry

****

back for more already?

****

Down the lane
behind the cottage
where you lived
you walked with Jane

the summer sun
beaming down
the birds in song
cows mooing

from the fields beyond
I can’t believe
you actually got
the cows in

the other day
she said
you a London boy
her eyes focused on you

her lips in smile
it was fun
you said
the cow man was helping me

of course but he said
I did well
she knelt down
by the small running stream

along the lane
you knelt beside her
she put her fingers
in the water

as it flowed through
her open fingers
you studied her fingers
and her hand

her face in profile
her dark hair
and her kneeling there
the smell of apples

and freshness
and you wanted
to kiss her
as she knelt

to put lips
to cheek
she broke the silence
what do you want to do

when you leave school?
she asked
the cowman asked me that
you said

what did you say?
she asked
said I wanted
to be a cowman

she smiled
what did he say?
he said want to get yourself
a proper job sonny

don’t to want to get stuck
on a farm all your life
what did you say?
she said leaning closer

her arm touching yours
I just said I liked the work
you said
she nodded

and you sensed
her nearness
her knee near yours
she stood up

and so did you
and walked on
she talked
of her father’s work

and her mother’s ways
and how she thought
her mother liked you
and you listened

to her words
and wanted
to hold them
and frame them

and to place them
in your heart
and mind
for always

the lane
the stream
the bird song
the long summer days.

The summer sun
warmed you and Jane

as you made your way
up the dried up

muddy track
towards the Downs

the sunlight
pouring through

the branches of trees
overhead

you thinking
of your work

on the farm below
the day before

the weighing of the milk
the clearing out

of cowsheds
and the cowman saying

what do you want to do
when you leave school?

to be a cowman
you replied

you want to get yourself
a proper job

you don’t want to do this
for a living

and Jane said
breaking you

from your thoughts
I want to show you

where I used to sit on the Downs
and where I used to collect

bones and skeletons of rabbits
and moles and birds

and you turned
and looked at her

as she walked beside you
her hands swinging

as she walked
her black hair tied

in a small bun
at the back

and her yellowy flowered dress
capturing your eyes

my father works in the woods
further along

you said
he works in the ditches

and hedgerows too
she bent down

and plucked a flower
that’s Squinancywort

she said
showing you the flower

as she twirled it
between fingers

she offered it to you to smell
lovely isn’t it?

you nodded
and carried the scent

with you as you both
moved on up the track

she turned to you and said
your dad does well

at his work for a townie
and you smiled

and so did she
and you captured

her lips parting
and her bright white teeth

and her eyes
moving over you

like a soft caress
and she whispered

turning her head away
do you love me?

and you whispered
yes.

Jane waited for you
by the narrow road
that led to Linch farm

the water tower visible
against the afternoon sky
of pale blue and white

cold clouds
she was dressed
in a grey coat

and her dark hair
was pinned back
with grips

you noticed
blueness
about her lips

the cold taking toll
wasn’t sure
if you would show

she said
the coldness
and such

I said I would
and I say
what I mean

you replied
once you were close to her
she took her hands

out of the coat pockets
and linked her arm
through yours

where shall we go?
she asked
you know it better

around here than I do
you choose
you said

let’s go up
the dust track
to the hollow tree

on the way up
to the Downs
she said

ok
you said
and so you walked along

and up the dust track
side by side
and she talked

of the wintery trees
and what birds
there were still about

and how she liked
spring best with the coming
of flowers and birds nesting

and you listened
looking at her
as she spoke

watching her lips move
how when she spoke
her white teeth showed

and now and then
her tongue would show
and it reminded you

of that kiss she gave you
up by Diddling church  
as you stood looking

at the grave stones
and she gazed at you
and then kissed

and her tongue
touched yours
and it was like heaven

as if someone
had opened up
your heart

and stuck
their tongue in there
and as you thought

about that kiss
she talked of some girl
of a cowman

who’d got pregnant
and how did that happen?  
she asked

and you said nothing
but listened on
and then you reached

the hollow tree
and climbed inside
and sat down

looking out
of the hole
in the side

and it felt cosy
in there
like a small home

and she leaned
in against you
and there was silence

and you looked at her
at her eyes
and hair

and how her lips
were parted
and her white teeth

showed and her tongue
waiting to speak
and you wondered

about that kiss again
and whether
it would happen this time

there in the hollow tree
out of sight
of others

and she showed you
tucked between
her small *******

a small locket
which used to be
her mother’s.

Steady hooves. Northbound.
Soft shadows breaking away.
My hat! No. Onward!

We walked down the lane
from my parent's cottage

it was Saturday morning
I’d got the milk
from the farm

walked across the fields
into the farm milking shed
with my green  
and cream jug

avoided the big
black farm dog
that had bitten me once

had breakfast
and was now walking
with Jane
along the narrow lane

I like that small stream
she said
pointing to the thin
strip of water
moving beside us
along the path
the sound my father says
is the water singing to God
she said

rooks called overhead
from the tall trees
other birds sang nearby
a wren flew from out
of a hedge

God is everywhere
my father says
she added

I found a wren's nest
the other month
I said

you didn't disturb it
did you?
she asked

no just looked
and counted the eggs
and studied them
for a few moments
I said

she smiled
I liked it
when she smiled
it was like Christmas morning
like an opened up present

I see you got
the cows in
from the field
yesterday afternoon
after school
she said
not bad
for a London boy

I like it
and Mr Andrews said
I’ve the making
of a cowman

there you are then
your future mapped out
she said

I don't want
a future mapped out
I said
I want it
to be a surprise

some things
have to be mapped out
she said
can't have a daily
big surprise
all the time
life can get routine
whatever we do

routine is the beginning
of dying
I said

routine is our security
she said
allows us
to feel safe

we stopped in the lane
and looked
at the flowers around us

she named a few
and the butterflies
that stopped on flowers

I looked too
as she named them
trying to remember them
looking at her finger
as it pointed out
the pinky nail
the thin finger
the small hand

when Mr Andrews asked me
what I wanted to do
after I left school
I said to be a cowman
and he said
you want to get yourself
a better job
don't get stuck
on a farm
all your life

it's what you want
Jane said
not what he says
that matters

we walked on down
the lane
her hand just inches
from mine

her grey skirt swishing
as she walked
her muddy boots
avoiding the cow pats

it's what you want
she repeated
that matters

yes I guess so
I said

I wanted to kiss her
but not saying so
just hoping
as we walked
looking for a time
maybe a place to stand
and see what happened
or just to kiss her
on the cheek suddenly
and see what she said
or did
but no
I didn't
I just walked on
thinking it wrong

she unaware
of my thoughts
listened to bird song.

The hay barn was warm
and silent
and it was out
of the rain

and we could look out
and see the rain
falling heavily
on the land outside

just in time
Jane said
we would
have got drenched

I smelt the farm
from where we were
the cows
the dung

the air
birds outside calling
we came in here
once before

I said
she looked at me
then back
into the interior

of the barn
yes I know
but we weren’t
alone then

the other kids
made it seem
more a playground
than a place

we could be
on our own
I caught a glimpse
of her grey dress

the wellington boots
her dark hair damp
from the sudden downpour  
barns have their own

particular smell
I said
she looked at me
with her dark blue eyes

best not
let the cowmen
see us in here
or tongues will talk

she said
what about?
I said
seeing rooks take off

from the tops
of the tall trees
a boy and girl
in a hay barn

gives people
the wrong impression
of matters
I sensed an apple smell

freshly picked
what impression?
you know
that those two people

are doing things
I looked at the grey sky
the Downs were
greying green

kissing?
I said
that and other things
she said shyly

the cowman’s daughter
up the lane
is pregnant
and they came in here

I thought now
that the apple smell
came from her
fresh apple scent

I breathed her in secretly
I heard about that
my mother said something
to my father over dinner

in hushed talk
but I heard them
what’s that
got to do with us?

I said
taking the apples
in my mind
and holding them

in my hands
wanting to bite
into each
nothing as long

as we’re just being us
and not otherwise
my mother likes you
Jane said

she has a good eye
for people
I nodded
uncertain what to say

still it rained
and there was
the strong smell
of warm hay