EVIDENCE OF BEAR

EVIDENCE OF BEAR

Like the dreamy housewife shrieking
Hitchcock shrieks at her refrigerator
repairman exposing himself in the kitchen
corner (he can’t help it, he’s been in hospital
recently) you imagine bear, sniffing your tent
deep in slanted night, under northern lights’
eelish dance, and you, psycho in your purple

bag of sleep. Haunches, hump, breath like bad
memories of a lover, invisible and steady,
his nose wrinkling muscle-twitch spasms
of nightmare in your calf. Grizzly will
investigate your grades, find them lacking.
Observe visits home to Mom have been
too infrequent. Shrug at your adjusted

gross income. But maybe he’s her
and in a mood: salmon scarce, berries
not as ripe as wishes, cold wind spanking
her stupid cubs. Your leader’s got a rifle,
but he’s helpless in love or in Washington
lying to the voters. Your plan is fragile:
tell the bear how full of love for fur you are.

Kiss its footprint in the sand. Scat
with berries not so bad tasting really,
when your hunger claws. Think yourself
salmon, pink skinned, bloated but stealthy,
wiggling against the way things run, like
semen. Think about being born, silly baby,
into the big teeth of the planet.