Saturday, April 02, 2011

Advice from the County Extension

Consider the Eater of Hope
How he lingers in the dark threads
of water in the cracks of old concrete

How he crawls head down, like a nuthatch
on the trunk of the world, searching
for plans and little grubs

How his translucent eyelids
flutter pinkly in the midday sun
that causes him such pain.

Consider how he edges backward
along mildewed porch railings,
inviting memories to take his place.

He prepares a honey stick
for termite mounds and
hairstyles that don't work out:

No one has ever claimed
he is not clever with his hands.
A pamphlet from the county extension

advises not leaving your laptop open
with affectionate emails displayed;
not kissing in public,

and not reaching to stroke the
delicate involutions
of the ears of the stranger

sitting in the seat
in front of yours, who
is reading Middlemarch on the bus:

once the attention of an Eater
has been attracted, they say,
it is very hard to shake.

4 comments:

carolee said...

This is one of those tour d'force poems! I love it.

Dale said...

Everything I know about writing this kind of poem I learned from you, Carolee.

Lucy said...

So much made me smile out loud here, but most especially the hairstyles and the stranger reading Middlemarch.

WV is 'exuviant' which rather describes how this makes me feel.

Kristen McHenry said...

"How he crawls head down, like a nuthatch
on the trunk of the world, searching
for plans and little grubs"

Awesome! I love this. Such rich language and sound; I was really taken by it and read it several times.