The Ancient Law

a poem

I continue to beg your indulgence while I write and post poetry. What else is there to do, here, at the end of all things? Also, please come say hello to me at the Branford Book Festival, May 9, 10–3, Main Street, Branford, CT! And maybe keep me solvent by buying a book?

The Ancient Law

For the first time, since time began,
   The last till time is ended,
For six foot five of natural man
   The order is suspended 
      Because, when Daniel Boone strides by,
      The ancient law does not apply.

The trilobites were governed through 
   A series of procedures 
That, with amendments, have proved true
   For all primordial creatures;
      And yet, when Daniel Boone comes near,
      The rules of Robert disappear.

The duty that we owe to our 
   Relations and our neighbors 
Is such a low and easy bar, 
   According to the papers 
      Some advocate had scrawled upon 
      In the red Pennsylvanian dawn,

But here comes Daniel Boone. His speed
   We liken to an arrow. 
He’s in and out, the way that Bede 
   Might write about a sparrow.
A lightning flash to keep at bay 
   The statutes that betray us—
A lightning flash as bright as day
And, when the light has slipped away,
   A night falls on our chaos;
      For when the Book of Boone is closed
      The ancient law is reimposed.