Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Before the Beginning
It was the first draught year Ashfad had known in 20 years, since he was a little boy. Hoofed urus were hard to find, and they were all bones poking through fur that looked draped on as an afterthought. Vegetables scarcely blinked through the dry earth before retreating, as if scared of the sun’s intense heat.
Ashfad surveyed the land. It looked as if the earth had been roasted over a fire and broken into little pieces of dried clay. "Imagine," he said to Sulwood, his hunting partner, "if we never had to hunt again, if the animals would stop running from us. If they would lay down before us so we could take our pick for the slaughter."
Ashfad returned to his wife, Mersk, empty-handed. His empty hands entwined with hers, and they swayed together in slow motion. They settled for a watery rye soup and laid themselves to rest with their daughter snoring rapidly a few feet away. Ashfad was amazed with the big noises that came from such a girthless little girl.
When he finally joined his family in the somnambulant dreamscape he couldn’t quite place his family among the animals there. The urus were plentiful, fat, and prepared to absorb his spear that he might live another day. Strangest of all, they were tame like dogs. They had no fear of Ashfad, just as he had imagined it with Sulwood.
Ashfad surveyed the land. It looked as if the earth had been roasted over a fire and broken into little pieces of dried clay. "Imagine," he said to Sulwood, his hunting partner, "if we never had to hunt again, if the animals would stop running from us. If they would lay down before us so we could take our pick for the slaughter."
Ashfad returned to his wife, Mersk, empty-handed. His empty hands entwined with hers, and they swayed together in slow motion. They settled for a watery rye soup and laid themselves to rest with their daughter snoring rapidly a few feet away. Ashfad was amazed with the big noises that came from such a girthless little girl.
When he finally joined his family in the somnambulant dreamscape he couldn’t quite place his family among the animals there. The urus were plentiful, fat, and prepared to absorb his spear that he might live another day. Strangest of all, they were tame like dogs. They had no fear of Ashfad, just as he had imagined it with Sulwood.
Labels: 2009, Fiction, philosophy, short story
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Let us reinvent the wheel
Let us reinvent the wheel.
The old one takes us nowhere, fast.
Let us forget its existence;
let us strip its ill-gotten rubber
and beat it until its flatness engulfs
our hammers.
Let us kick its metal rims
as the rappers' gab is open-mouth muted
and they've only politics left to rhyme about.
Let our steel toes outlast it.
Let its nuts be eaten by spring's ravenous squirrels,
and its bolts be corroded by vinegar blasted from
our super-soakers.
Let there be no remnants of its perfection,
its blind efficient roll into oblivion.
Let us start anew with a wooden block,
balanced by its corner on a sealskin dome
as we drum like malnourished apes with
broken sticks.
The old one takes us nowhere, fast.
Let us forget its existence;
let us strip its ill-gotten rubber
and beat it until its flatness engulfs
our hammers.
Let us kick its metal rims
as the rappers' gab is open-mouth muted
and they've only politics left to rhyme about.
Let our steel toes outlast it.
Let its nuts be eaten by spring's ravenous squirrels,
and its bolts be corroded by vinegar blasted from
our super-soakers.
Let there be no remnants of its perfection,
its blind efficient roll into oblivion.
Let us start anew with a wooden block,
balanced by its corner on a sealskin dome
as we drum like malnourished apes with
broken sticks.
Labels: 2010, nova scotia, philosophy, Poetry
