Poem of the Day

[nessus (Doug Alan)]

BESTIARY (by Sharon Olds)

Nostrils flared, ears pricked,
Gabriel asks me if people can mate with
animals.  I say it hardly
ever happens.  He frowns, fur and
skin and hooves and slits and pricks and
teeth and tails whirling in his brain.
You *could* do it, he says, not wanting the
world to be closed to him in any
form.  We talk about elephants
and parakeets, until we are rolling on the
floor, laughing like hyenas.  Too late,
I remember love -- I backtrack
and try to slip it in, but that is
not what he means.  Seven years old,
he is into hydraulics, pulleys, doors which
fly open in the side of the body,
entrances, exits.  Flushed, panting,
hot for physics, he thinks about lynxes,
eagles, pythons, mosquitos, girls,
casting a glitering eye of use
over creation, wanting to know
exactly how the world was made to receive him.