Monday, September 14, 2015

a glossary of chickens


There should be a word for the way
they look with just one eye, neck bent,
for beetle or worm or strewn grain.
“Gleaning,” maybe, between “gizzard”
and “grit.” 

And for the way they run toward
someone they trust, their skirts
hiked, their plump bodies wobbling:
“bobbling,” let’s call it, inserted
after “blowout” and before “bloom.”

There should be terms, too, for things
they do not do—like urinate or chew—
but perhaps there already are.

I’d want a word for the way they drink,
head thrown back, throat wriggling,
like an old woman swallowing
a pill; a word beginning with “S,”
coming after “sex feather” and before “shank.”

And one for the sweetness of hens
but not roosters.

We think that by naming we can understand,
as if the tongue were more than muscle.

–Gary Whitehead


Thursday, September 3, 2015

you know ...


Your effort is the bondage.

—Sri Ramana Maharshi


Wednesday, July 1, 2015


I am
but make
no mistake

emptiness is not
void. It has
flavor, it has
Its colors are dusk,
half-light, depth.

You are the tender
spread of dawn
when it first appears
and the last lingering
long after sunset.
You are the
emerald sheen of
sun in water
and the light that fails
to find its reflection
on a day of drizzle.

You take my
emptiness and spin it
into a blanket so light
it sits like stardust
on your shoulders,
my emptiness offering shade
to your dazzling Fullness.

–Antoinette Voûte Roeder
Color Me Empty
a love song


thank you