I so love that pair of lines: "Last week, he made a pair/of dogs do a pony show". You are so witty! :)And the way this is developing as a series of interrelated characters is fascinating. Are you imagining these relationships, or did you learn about them? To me, it looks like the last two photos for Izzy and Henry were taken in approximately the same location. By the way, do you know where? It looks like somewhere in the High Plains, but I'm not sure.
All of these poems, including the relationships...completely fictional. That I am making people believe I'm writing down stories I already knew is some kind of compliment! You all are believing my fiction!!Mom had no idea who "Lizzy" was, or where that was taken. "Jack" is likely one of my dad's cousins, but no one I actually knew in person. This photo (and others that have this same dry, flat, empty look) were likely taken at "The Home Place" where my dad grew up, north of Burlington.
Here's mine for the day over at the new poem place blog. It's about the common work of common folks, and some uncommon lemon cake.http://goo.gl/RPfsKn
... whose lifeis a circus ...that's a story all by itself, Mary Lee.Kevin
It's really fun watching this story unfold. You totally had me fooled- I was sure you knew all of these people, knew their stories, and were just capturing it for us. I can't wait to see where your story goes. A novel in verse in the making???Here's mine for today:"Conqueror?"Last MarchI strode to the barn flung open the bastionsthen halted in decidedly unsoldierlike wonderI leaned across splintered woodbreathed hay-touched airand marveled at you a few hours oldgrunting and sucklingat your mama's nippleSix months laterhere I am proud conquerorswinging you upside down by your hocksand announcing to the worldthat soon you will be bacon on my breakfast platterand it's not likei'm not gratefulfor one more yearof abundant provisionbut somehowI just can't forgetthat sweet hay-touchedspring morningand all that grunting and suckling. (C) Carol Wilcox, 2016
As soon as I hit publish, I know the title is wrong. Now it's "Abundance?" I'm not sure that's right either, but it's better, maybe...
I wonder if it wasn't as hard for them to slaughter (maybe that should be the title? or too grim?) as it is for us to even imagine actually killing with our hands for the meat we eat...
What a poignant poem, Carol. I suspect that Mary Lee's right about the killing. Many kids in my class at school have gutted a deer or some other animal already in their short lives. Still, though, my college roommate's grandfather was a vegetarian when I met him in 1985. Had been one for 70+ years since he found out at a tender young age that the pork they were having for dinner was, only that morning, the runt of the litter he had care for. His parents couldn't understand the sentiment, but he couldn't eat meat since that time, which was quite a feat in rural Minnesota.
I am with your friend's grandfather. I do eat meat. At the same time, the meat that I buy in the grocery store feels super different than this meat he is holding in his hands. I am a city girl and don't know much about pigs. I wonder how long they typically live before they kill them for meat. The stuff I read said only six months for bacon, etc, otherwise it gets too fatty. That grossed me out a little, ok, a lot! And there is always the Charlotte's Web thing going in the back of my head.
I love the fiction of these. You're onto something.
I'm loving Henry's voice here! Also how the story is developing, widening one poem at a time... excited to see where you go with it! xo