On First Glance

Originally posted 1/7/2010.

First thing to catch my eye
when I sit down to write this morning
is the plastic Halloween glass
with its images
of skeletal girls in pigtails,
shaking Jack-O-Lantern maracas
as they dance.
Two weeks after Christmas,
not the least bit out of place.

When the Tasmanian wolf appears
(said to be extinct but there it certainly is)
by the door,
I’m not at all
fearful.  The animal
must have spun in here by chance
as the earth passed through
its current dimension.
Spider legs, stripes, 

jaws like a car crusher:
in this salvage yard of an apartment
its presence make sense on first glance
since my place is full of discards,
second hands, re-purposed items
finding new lives. I usually can do something
with anything I get my hands on;
maybe that appeals to it.

I decide to name the beast Johnny.
It looks up when I call it,
comes to me as confident
in its power
as any other myth
would be.

There’s still some water
in the Halloween glass
so I offer the wolf a drink.
It begins to lap, the long pale tongue
not caring that the water comes
from an off-season source
or that it’s going to become 
a metaphor for something
as soon as it blinks back 
into its usual state
of not being here. 
It seems to sense safety
in this room I’ve dedicated
to taking something
that looks wrong
on first glance
and making it right.


About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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