Friday, November 25, 2016

Mikaela Castledine #329 Big Game

Poems
you can’t just wait about for them to come
you have to set off
in sturdy boots
with your gun shouldered
and nets long handled
setting traps and trips
sharp bottomed pits
noose head height on their familiar paths
hold then in your collecting jars
clear and wire tined
lids perforated to encourage breath
or pin pushed through the thorax
with a feeble kick
or take your trophy photos
when they lay before you on the road
momentum slowed
and croak dry throated
with a foot upon the neck

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