Never Stop Improving {Jennifer MacBain~Stephen}
There is a creature in my garden who possesses a certain hardness,
is not open to impulsivity, opens his metal claws. He needs
a spring manicure. He waits for small hearts to squeeze and then
yes, he squeezes them. The fur and hair jump once,
stain forever. Scrubbing makes some messes worse.
Can you be hard and soft at the same time?
Like don't interrupt when I am telling a story about people
laying in grass in a drum circle making art but be cavalier.
Blood mouth gristle hangs on you, spit, ivory splintered bits.
Some liquids do not soak in well, like with certain pots.
You need a wrap in a quilt in Maine to look tousled and sexy
yet unthreatening. A spreading mouth deposit after night digging.
Sit on the porch, creature, at dawn, like in a romantic comedy
with horses. You re-shaped the earth again with talons and tail:
you need gloss and a blow-out, creature. You need clear braces.
You need a mixture of both old school charm and modern updates.
You are killing the wrong things. Take me to two
different places for the same meal. Crack the night
creature; it's all pudding and manners now.
