Today is St. Brigid's Day, the 3rd Annual Bloggers (Silent) poetry reading.
The Cast Off
This is a day to celebrate can-
openers, those lantern-jawed long-tailed
humping tools that cut through what keeps
us from what we need: a can of beans
trapped in its armour taunts the nails
and teeth of a hungry woman.
Today let us hear hurrahs for zippers,
those small shark teeth that part
politely to let us at what we want;
the tape on packages that unlock
us birthday presents; envelopes we slit to thaw the frozen
words on the tundra of paper.
Today let us praise the small
rebirths, the emerging groundhog
from the sodden burrow; the nut
picked from the broken fortress of walnut
shell, itself proed from the oily fruit
shaken from the high turreted
city of the tree.
Today let us honor the safe whose door
hangs ajar; the champagne bottle
with its cork bounnced off the ceiling
and into the soup tureen; the Victorian lady
in love who has removed her hood, her cloak,
her lace boots, her stockings, her overdress,
her underdress, her wool petticoat, her linen
petticoats, her silk petticoats, her whalebone
corset, her bustle, her chemise, her drawers, and
who still wants to! Today let us praise the cast
that finally opens, slit neatly in two
like a dinosaur egg, and out at last
comes somewhat hairier, powdered in dead skin
but still beautiful, the lost for months
body of my love.
The Moon Is Always Female
Alfred A. Knopf