Arts So Much Depends Upon a Red Apple, Glazed with Rain Water, Beside the White Chickens
Hackers who tried to pirate Apple’s operating system have encountered, buried deep inside the code, a poem. Apple put it there. And it sucks. It’s a terrible poem. Apple made nearly $14 billion in revenue in 2005 according to CNN — a record for the company. The least they could do is pay someone to write a decent poem. The poet laureate? What’s he up to? (Apparently, writing about stars and cows.)
A Birthday Poem
Just past dawn, the sun stands
with its heavy red head
in a black stanchion of trees,
waiting for someone to come
with his bucket
for the foamy white light,
and then a long day in the pasture.
I too spend my days grazing,
feasting on every green moment
till darkness calls,
and with the others
I walk away into the night,
swinging the little tin bell
of my name.
-Ted Kooser, US Poet Laureate