The fox at the fence
is impossibly gray,
impossibly large,
and, impossibly, wisping
through the wire
and coming.
I am all sheep and no Jesus;
birdboned
with no stones for the slingshot loose in my hand,
and he is coming.
A scream blooms teeth
in the mud of my throat
and slow shreds the softwood of sleep
too late to wake me -
he is coming.
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Wednesday, June 18, 2014
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About Me
- Maude Lynn
- Anybody who has survived his childhood has enough information about life to last him the rest of his days. ---Flannery O'Connor
19 comments:
This is quite the anxiety dream, which in your hands turns to pure poetry.
gah! stressful. i wonder if throwing a slingshot might scare him away? ;)
Spooky-damn good!
No but the "Baa-ing" of the sheep might wake up the caretaker. My dad would always wake up if a cow cried out in the middle of the night. Or if the chickens all got excited.
I like the first line, it set the pace, fast. Also, it made me wonder, "which could be worse, a fox at the fence or a wolf at the door?"
..
Spooky damn good it is indeed, MZ! But then yours are always terrific, not just good! Hope your week is going well!
my heart was racing, I could feel the terror.
"all sheep and no Jesus". I just love that.
you've penned the essence of that foreboding in a dream ~
great peice!! :)
Nice!Love the line, "I am all sheep and no Jesus."
This spoke to me as we have a fox eating our chickens. If it's not one thing, it's another....hawks, coyotes, skunks (very bad) and the list goes on and on.
Have a great week!!!
Makes me want to scream at you "WAKE UP,OH, PLEASE, WAKE UP"
Scary good.
a well crafted piece
much love...
a poetic nightmare…
Wowzers! The mud in the throat is a realistic response - good one! You evoke the panic to perfection....
Oh dear! Very vivid -- where's the shepherd when you need him? I rather like foxes but yours is terrifying and yet has a wonderful cadence. K.
This poem tells stories and bites the reader into place.
"I am all sheep and no Jesus;" what a statement. Love the ambiguity. For the speaker can be an animal lost without a shepherd or a person who can function in a group without leash or leader.
And "A scream blooms teeth in the mud of my through" left me gasping for so many things.
Thank you for this!
The compression you achieve here is feral, truly packed with fight or flight. Our gal Plath would be proud. Home run.
You have such a unique way of wording things and I love the impossiblies and the all sheep and no Jesus and the blooming scream...so much awesome in one poem!! Thank you for the challenge, MZ!!
Aw...why did you do that?
Now I'm not going to sleep.
But first, waiting for the goosebumps to go.
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