Free Range Eggs
this ewe for me. Candle this ewe. Look
how the fleece of this ewe is
not crusted; look how her flanks are not
ruddy, nor soiled.
this ewe with me. Hark to her bleating--her
smug, persistent bleating--please, please,
this ewe for me, candle this ewe.
this ewe for me. Upend this ewe and draw
a deep breath. Look
how the back of the ewe is sagging and
swayed, look how her belly is tight. Grease
this ewe for me,
break out the long-gloves and break out
the duct tape and break out the
needle-nose pliers. I will have answers.
Back to the house.
I will have peace, tonight, I will
have peace. Back to the house.
the dray for me, load up the dray
with my shovel, my tarp and my
Wellington boots. I will go hunting for
nightcrawlers, I will go hunting
in backpasture dew. Fill up
the Coleman, go off to bed.
If you see light in the farfields tonight, it
will just be me, a-worming.
It will just be me.
Copyright John D Porter © 1998
[List of Poems]