What I didn't say when the gasworks shook their iron tails
in my direction
There is a foot-shaped stain on the end of my mattress like Sibelius snapping a white tablecloth across the Baltic Sea inviting me to tea. Night Dog thumps his body against my door. I’ve cut my hair to fiery nubs my angel hair my blonde angel cluttersuit. I eat a bowl of marrow beans and pound my feet but too many hours in the swamp prying goathead burrs from my heel awakened more than triage more than language my caliche nerve. I don’t know how to do it. I stand on my hind legs and bark. I want more. I want more. I want more.
* * *
Rebecca Loudon is the author of Cadaver Dogs (No Tell Books), Navigate, Amelia Earhart's Letters Home (No Tell Books) and Radish King (Ravenna Press). No Tell Motel first published this poem in December 2008. Rebecca wrote, "The poems from Cadaver Dogs explore the human wanting to be animal, the animal wanting to be human, and what happens when the change meets itself on the path toward recognition. Some of the poems, if not all, reflect the comfort animals give humans when we capture them as pets. The subtext of these poems addresses the peril of children living in a world where not animals, but humans, are the true danger."
* * *
If you liked this poem, No Tell Books is offering a special sale this holiday weekend. Three titles for just $25 (plus shipping). That's up to $27 off the combined retail. Any title from our catalog is eligible including books by your favorite authors: Jill Alexander Essbaum, Rebecca Loudon, Hugh Behm-Steinberg, Bruce Covey, Karl Parker, Laurel Snyder, Shafer Hall, PF Potvin, Ravi Shankar, Reb Livingston AND both Bedside Guides (hundreds of poets in there!)
Comments