Sunday, 3 June 2012

Sunday Poem


real-estate baron,
in a field he is
the incarnation of field.
his cutting, racing
figure eights, feints and
about turns in tall grass
a hockey game against joy

summoned or coaxed to the scratched
back door he carries
seeds, the smell of wind and
the temperature’s date stamp
in his fur. burrs and leaping
insects latched with the barbed
malice of a computer virus

sheriff of the domestic lowlands
each half-floppy ear a catcher’s mitt
for the distinct plunk of itinerant food.
paratrooping carrots, sandwich emigrants
gravity’s scraps

desire on four legs he
animates the rooms
routinely visits the provinces
of nook and expanse
leaving warm oblongs of floor,
tumbleweeds of hair

in angled stretch, diagonal
sprawl or insistent stand
he is enormous, equine and then
enfolded, a black muff
beseeching both my hands
or a comma curled,
life’s hairy pause

the winter in his beard
is my discontent
the clicking ratchet of one hip
or glaucoma’s indicting blue fingerprint
on each eye of my animal self.
mortality’s mute
shaggy ambassador
From Origins (2012) by Darryl Whetter.

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