01-08-2014, 11:27 AM
entropy
His big scared eye stares, vacant, pink, dumb,
and as offensive as a broken clock.
I toss him. He tumbles, freezes, shocked.
A teary scotch heats my belly numb.
My brother baits me, "One?" And off he slumps
into the kitchen for a beer. They're gone.
Talks about how they talked about the law,
of all things, the fawn, at the freezer, crumbling.
I want a wolf to cover us in blood,
rip their heads off, eat the patient doctors,
fling the stocks, the shots, the muzzles, scatter pharmacies like Jesus, get drunk,
howl down the moon, then pop some suds,
and toast that fucking rabbit.
But, on the other hand, there's entropy . . .
Cutting brush at noon today, I saw
a green tail glide over broken holly
leaves, slowly, poorly camouflaged.
It was Christmas, sleeting, and I thought,
it's sub-freezing. Aren't snakes under rocks,
hidden? And I wondered what had got
him, what had scared him into the stinging frost
And I thought, "Can a snake get cold? Can a snake feel lost?"
My father saw it and took a hoe and chopped
its neck. Or another snake's. They look a lot
the same. He tried to toss it, but it got
caught in a tree, where it hangs. My brother's lost.
He finally pulls in past three. He pauses,
Breathes, and walks across the way, faceless.
My father grins and hugs him around the neck,
and a cop turns around in the cul-de-sec,
and it seems like no one finds this place except
on accident. I take off my gloves, and in
no time flat, the heat goes out of them,
and I sit down behind a pile of leaves
and pretend I’m somewhere else, where there is
No help, and therefore there is no need.
Where the wolves would have you long before the grief.
--I'm looking for help w meter, but let me know if you think there's other issues or if you think the meter's fine
His big scared eye stares, vacant, pink, dumb,
and as offensive as a broken clock.
I toss him. He tumbles, freezes, shocked.
A teary scotch heats my belly numb.
My brother baits me, "One?" And off he slumps
into the kitchen for a beer. They're gone.
Talks about how they talked about the law,
of all things, the fawn, at the freezer, crumbling.
I want a wolf to cover us in blood,
rip their heads off, eat the patient doctors,
fling the stocks, the shots, the muzzles, scatter pharmacies like Jesus, get drunk,
howl down the moon, then pop some suds,
and toast that fucking rabbit.
But, on the other hand, there's entropy . . .
Cutting brush at noon today, I saw
a green tail glide over broken holly
leaves, slowly, poorly camouflaged.
It was Christmas, sleeting, and I thought,
it's sub-freezing. Aren't snakes under rocks,
hidden? And I wondered what had got
him, what had scared him into the stinging frost
And I thought, "Can a snake get cold? Can a snake feel lost?"
My father saw it and took a hoe and chopped
its neck. Or another snake's. They look a lot
the same. He tried to toss it, but it got
caught in a tree, where it hangs. My brother's lost.
He finally pulls in past three. He pauses,
Breathes, and walks across the way, faceless.
My father grins and hugs him around the neck,
and a cop turns around in the cul-de-sec,
and it seems like no one finds this place except
on accident. I take off my gloves, and in
no time flat, the heat goes out of them,
and I sit down behind a pile of leaves
and pretend I’m somewhere else, where there is
No help, and therefore there is no need.
Where the wolves would have you long before the grief.
--I'm looking for help w meter, but let me know if you think there's other issues or if you think the meter's fine