LITTLE JOHN

So there was this very brave man
with a very unfortunate name
I will tell your right now
it was ‘Juanito’ which means
‘Little John’ sort of like I think
the Robin Hood guy and almost
like I think BONZANZA’s Little Joe.



He was a matador of speed
and daring this Little John
and he either fought this one
bull for a year (1815-1816)
or Goya painted him for a year
(1815-1816) or it took Goya
like a year to paint one painting
(1815-1816) I can’t tell at all
the books don’t make it obvious

Lame, yes, all of those explanations (mine)
except the one year bullfight expliqué a year!
Little Joe Cartwright did nothing so extraordinary
in this world in BONANZA. He did however play

an angel and a country farmer in
at least two other television series
(even and no fooling a teenager
werewolf before either like in the 50’s)
but I couldn’t bear it! It was ridiculous!
He was too sweet and too kind always
except as a teenage werewolf in which
case he was too tragic, oh, it was so sad

Perhaps he was like this in real life, too,
although he was a body builder and smoked
cigarettes and laughed on the Johnny Carson Show.
People get nervous and smoke cigarettes

and build big muscles and go on the
Johnny Carson Show because who
knows what will happen next, hence
why not? Muscles can come in handy
during the unexpected, like, well,

Who knows? But I ask you: if God loved
the world so much and loved Little Joe
Cartwright so much why for God's sake
why did he give him cancer? What kind
of a love thing is that? People are afraid
of death, hate it, don’t want it, don’t want
it, hate it, are afraid of it,

but perhaps I am being too hasty:
Juanito wasn’t, didn't, and he fought a bull
for a whole year–how afraid is that? Or
Goya painted it for a whole year, in any event,
these guys–farmers,angels, fighters, actors, Little
Joes and Johns re: death: they plow, they bless,
they fight, they act, no fear, I swear

Look at Juanito, for instance: bad name,
kinda dopey name, sure, but his shadow
seems to be kissing the bull’s shadow in
a rugged contretemps for all eternity
like Hey it’s no biggie

if aquatints are eternal Are they, yes, they are,
but as with all things, easier said than done but
still, Hell, they can be done, oh so true, both
but who do we ask? I mean

We can ask the real Goya as much
as we can ask the real Juanito alas
we will never see the real Juanito
and don’t get me started on

Little Joe Cartwright, Michael Landon
Angel Farmer Werewolf Muscles

although we can marvel and laugh
at whatever we wish, why not, and
caress the unexpected, the inexpicable
on the butt, Let’s! Why,

Little Joe, what do you say to this?
I figured as much, and yes, (1815-1816)
or even (1815-?) it’s true, keep going,
be corny, be sweet, be true, love those
tints, and shadows, be you