Poetry Barasingha

My dog with the candy name goes off at the drop of a hat. When the washing machine rumbles a cycle-change from the tenebrosity of its cave, I wish I could say Taffy ululates, but it would overdress the event. She does peal like popcorn at the sinister clank.

Loving waggy Taff nonsensically is my segue to the poetry of unknown words. Words to me unknown are new words; and known words used new ways have an unlikely hood to them that also stretches a body no-pain-no-gainfully.

Poets can’t be trusted to call Jane merely plain — due respect — or a thing by its first name. It’s the storied glory of the tribe, and keeps me toeing each new line in the sand they raise.

Here are sonorous fragments ripe with newness and reverence from Pascale Petit in Poetry, April 2020:

Green Bee-Eater
More precious than all / the gems of Jaipur— / the green bee-eater […]
with his space-black bill / and rufous cap…

Swamp Deer
The barasingha bears his twenty-tined rack / like a crucified forest […]
he crosses the highway / with all the birds of Kaziranga / balanced on each fork…

barasingha: swamp deer (Rucervus duvaucelii); native to India; status Vulnerable (population decreasing).
green bee-eater: (Merops orientalis); a passerine (perching!) bird in the bee-eater family; status Least Concern (population increasing).
Jaipur: capital of the Indian state of Rajasthan.
Kaziranga: a national park in the Indian state of Assam.
rufous: reddish-brown in color.

(c) 2020 JMN

About JMN

I live in Texas and devote much of my time to easel painting on an amateur basis. I stream a lot of music, mostly jazz, throughout the day, and watch Netflix and Prime Video for entertainment. I like to read and memorize poetry.
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