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