SHIVAREE
These kettle bells.
Is it the axe-murderer,
with green garbage bag
in the shadows?
No. Green trees so thick
their tops are folded hands
or knotted knuckles
to make perilous shrubbery
by the garden wall.
Yet this is a state of mind
and shards of multi-coloured
glass dot the top of stones.
Interesting. Should a sociopath put
out his shingle, come calling,
a much under-estimated, rude uttering
would take place.
Still bees are active in the night air,
not swarms, but a hum. Pleasant odours waft
thru stiller air. There is no charged electricity
to things, no tautness or leathery tightness to
individual seconds. Still and stricken still.
Yet "what ifs" come slithering
as if serpents along
a pasture floor.
The diabolical. Rich desire to impregnate with evil,
To embarcation upon conquests.
To embolden and make one's mark,
however ridiculous to the sane and balanced mind.
Horrible. The dirty laundry of just one
over-flowering and too abundant mind gone wrong.
One single blossom out of place and "killer".
Off-kilter. Out of whack. The
pickle short of a jar syndrome.
Then there's the hoots and shrill cat-calls
withered by horse laughs. Guffaws with tattoos and
rifle-butts.
Laid back "good ole boys" type of humour going wrong
soured by too many visits and skunky beers from the
Orchid Lounge.
Rinky-dink, honky-tonk. Dotting the landscape with worn,
thin cars, trouser legs piled up, the "f" and "s" words.
Charivari. A timely entry. A buzz set to sound, a faint
blinking button with no sound. Suckers in the creek
breaking water to catch flies, churning mud bottom
by their too turbulent tails; a bird hitting the window
only its night. The echo of moths lost to the stars
with each jarring knock.
[19]
POINT SPREAD
The skull in the box is that of Cornelius A. Burleigh, the first man to be
hanged in London, Ontario, August 19, 1830. The public hanging attracted
an audience of over 3,000 when the village of London numbered only a
few hundred. Because the rope broke, he was hanged twice! The top of
the skull was taken on a world tour by Dr. O.S. Fowler, a phrenologist.
This part of the skull was presented to the Harris family.
(Eldon House brochure)
Off memory
& a dare,
the grave man
coming to a bitter end.
Burleigh, top of his
skull reminiscent of a laundry cup
(or toothpaste cap) separated from
its yellowing, rightful owner.
No jaws of life here--
rather vengeance beyond death,
shellac & varnish twist shoved
to the withering bone.
Phrenology,
sinister "fin de siecle" fingering
of the intellect's character
through guru-dimensions of the head,
(pseudo-savant/skulduggery clairvoyant).
Thimble-full thinker, sleight of hand
smoke'n mirror trophy hunters
boisterous crowd in a
"hanging mood". Coins
flip on the outcome
while town drunks reel;
The village idiot getting
into the "swing" of things. Point spread
across the yawn
of death ...
brittle behaviour,
the sharp edge of beetles
clicking in the dark.
And I thought
of institutionalized evil
& rabid passion for revenge
pursued beyond the final resting place--
most private skeletal remains
held up as curios. Medieval burning of a heretic's bones,
manure pile for those decried damned;
the cross-roads
drive your cart over the
bones of the dead,
the remembered suicide's end.
Not so strange
given human nature,
Lord Byron's silver drinking cup
runaway Ethiopian slave
(twisted paean to romance)
or Hand of Glory,
corpse-fresh from the gibbet &
famed forges of France.
Hair strands as in under
a magnifying glass, then
shards of clothing/clods of earth
covering a shovel.
The autopsy-necromancy
Nazi intrigue,
playing polo with your
opponent's skull
--Carl Sagan's Broca's Brain
red-bearded decapitation
floating in a cloud of formaldehyde;
sale of skeletons/white slavery
filthy lucre all in one utilitarian
lust for cadavers ....
Robber-birds pinioning their prey ...
Mania to collect
mania to re-collect,
shadow-boxing logic
rattle his bones
he's only a pauper
whom nobody owns.
[21]
(THE TORONTO STAR, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 30, 1985)
Bare bones future
Medical schools may be facing a bare bones future,
thanks to a shortage of skeletons. According to an article
in The Medical Post, most anatomy skeletons come from
India and the Indian government has placed a ban on the
export of human skulls and skeletons. At Queen's University,
500 students share 300 skeletons, four or five of
which have to be replaced every year although the head of
the anatomy department says the students take good care of them.
Anatomists say it would be extremely hard to duplicate the surface
details with plastic skeletons but the option may have to be considered.
[24]