A once-living thing,
like a bank president or jilted lover,
it had turned to stone and worn the same expression for lo these many millenia.
An expert from the university was dispatched,
along with a few dozen anonymous local sherpas who would be doing all the work.
The expert knelt, pupils dilating, and forgot to breathe.
"Is he going to propose to it?" wondered the sherpas.
Once, the thing's gut was filled with enough sweet summer grasses
to fill all the holes left by the earthquake, and then some.
Its tremendous scat was as big as the expert.
It knew a tropical sun and carried bizarre shrieking birds on its back.
Sometimes, when you are just trying to run a business,
or staying in bed willing yourself to die,
some know-it-all bastard comes along and tells you that you have to evolve,
or pull yourself together for the children.
This is when aftershocks come in handy,
and rubble suits become these officious fucks,
who, in a thousand or a million more years will find your visage unchanged
and earthquakes as impotent as priests or Pollyannas.
_________
for Day 16.
I especially love the bizarre shrieking birds on its back....and the know it all insisting we evolve. I loved this.
ReplyDeleteIt's difficult to know where to start with what I like about this; the imagery is pitch perfect, the language both sly and dry, and the metaphor work solid as a rock face, but what really makes the poem stand out for me is the point of view from which it's told. The business man and the jilted lover are described as if in a documentary, and it makes them real. The narrator is able to be very particular and yet also to let the language fly like a shrieking eagle to it's high vantage point. And the craft on display is seamless, steady and invisible. I can see this will be a favorite. Really excellent, Shay.
ReplyDeleteWow! Love it from title to ending. I like the underlying dark humor..What the hell will the future say when it shovels through the bs our modern society will leave behind?
ReplyDelete"A once-living thing,
ReplyDeletelike a bank president or jilted lover," -- phenomenal.
"Sometimes, when you are just trying to run a business,
or staying in bed willing yourself to die,
some know-it-all bastard comes along and tells you that you have to evolve" -- even more phenomenal.
Somehow whenever I see you post, I wonder what is next from "Shay's Rebellion", that ill-fated uprising in Western Massachusetts in 1786.
Shay--Usually, your labels are quite entertaining... an aperitif before savoring your poem.
ReplyDeleteI saw the label "born to be wasted" and heard a remake of "Born to Be Wild" for this crazy time.
All I have (right now) is "Get your sweatpants snapped on..."
'Evolve or die', isn't it? (Will some future archaeologist find the dead, staring, monstrous face of humanity?)
ReplyDeleteLove the impotence of 'priests or Pollyanna'.
staying in bed willing yourself to die,
ReplyDeletesome know-it-all bastard comes along and tells you that you have to evolve..
I've had days like this, too many to mention.
Your poem is something else, Shay! I enjoyed the humour and irony of:
ReplyDelete‘A once-living thing,
like a bank president or jilted lover,
it had turned to stone and worn the same expression for lo these many millenia’;
and the amazing image of:
‘Its tremendous scat was as big as the expert.
It knew a tropical sun and carried bizarre shrieking birds on its back.’
Love it👏👏all of it. I can relate🙏
ReplyDelete