||[Aug. 29th, 2006|08:25 pm]
Calls by name the leaves that aren't yet there
am i a crab? he taps his carapace
tries walking sideways, falls on Bolton.
am i a snake? with no undulant grace
crawls on his belly; makes the Ribble valley.
a horse? he gallops over Manchester
pauses in the newly-made rubble plain
essays a neigh. People scream in Leicester.
maybe not that then, I should look again.
in the bestiary the robot flails
this, this, or that, the resemblance is slight
mosquito, ant, lion, desmond, flightless rail
they all seem somehow to be not quite right.
well, then, after all, am i a poem?
the evidence is to the contrary, my son