From the Canal
Something breathes
on a dead deer
and the hair inside its ears
wave
Headlights and
rubber
Water fills the black eyeholes that keep seeing everything reflected back from skidding
black macadam
Someone cut your feet off
Someone moved your leg across the street
Someone whistled
Giving birth
you give birth to steam
and maggots
Strange new butterflies
Copyright © 2013 by Michael Dickman. Used with permission of the author. This poem appeared in Poem-A-Day on September 18, 2013. Browse the Poem-A-Day archive.
"This poem is part of a longer sequence of poems whose origins come from time spent along the D&R Canal in New Jersey. Have you been there? You should go. Despite the violence in the poem it is a dazzlingly beautiful place. And only one hour from Penn Station!" —Michael Dickman
Michael Dickman
Poet Michael Dickman's second collection of poetry, Flies, received the 2010 James Laughlin Award