Palladiums by Carl Sandburg
IN the newspaper officeâ€”who are the spooks?
Who wears the mythic coat invisible?
Who pussyfoots from desk to desk
with a speaking forefinger?
Who gumshoes amid the copy paper
with a whispering thumb?
Speak softlyâ€”the sacred cows may hear.
Speak easyâ€”the sacred cows must be fed.