Metal claws of the beast
we would much rather
be descended from —
no wimpy swinging in trees,
no equivocating opposable tine —
whether pitching hay or turning soil
their purpose is the same:
to bite what they cannot chew
& carry what they cannot keep.
There are forks also in roads,
in creeks & in tongues,
but for them
everything remains open.
How ironic then that the man-made fork
should epitomize inflexibility:
insurrectionary bedfellow of the torch,
stoker of digestive fires,
guard’s goad in an underworld
we hope never to descend to,
minimal lightning that we are,
tree gone wrong.
OTHER POSTS IN THE SERIES
- Odes to Tools now in print
- Ode to a Socket Wrench
- Ode to a Claw Hammer
- Ode to a Musical Saw
- Ode to a Hand Truck
- Ode to a Shovel
- Ode to a Hatchet
- Ode to Scissors
- Ode to a Bucket
- Ode to Forks
- Ode to a Magnetic Screwdriver
- Ode to a Plumb Bob
- Ode to a House Jack
- Ode to a Measuring Tape
- Ode to Scythes
- Ode to a Plane
- Ode to a Spirit Level
- Ode to a Hoe
- Ode to Tin Snips
- Ode to a Crowbar
- Ode to a Coping Saw
- Ode to a Hive Tool
- Ode to a Compass
- Ode to a Shoehorn
- Ode to a Wire Brush
- Woodrat Podcast 2: Elizabeth Adams and “Odes to Tools”
- New Odes to Tools review by Noel Sloboda
- New review of Odes to Tools
- New review of Odes to Tools by Kathleen Kirk
- Odes to Tools as “living poetry”
- Scythes revisited
whether pitching hay or turning soil
its purpose is the same:
to bite what it cannot chew
& carry what it cannot keep.
There are forks also in roads,
in creeks & in tongues,
but for them
everything remains open.
Fantastic. Reading these lines aloud is a pleasure.
Thanks, Rachel! I hope my subsequent recasting in the plural doesn’t discombobulate you too much.
(Note to self: use “discombobulate” in a poem.)
marvelous. Seems to me that something’s caught fire in these odes to tools that had sunk to a smolder for a while.
Yes, and the phrase minimal lightning
I continue to find your morning porch
http://morningporch.tumblr.com/
very engaging.
An amazing persistance and cleaving to a format.
It is a Cal Ripkin-like long term quotidian epic.
dale – Really? Cool. (Actually, FWIW, my own favorite in the series so far was the next-to-most-recent one, “Ode to Scissors.” I love to write more like that one.)
MB – Glad you liked that. It was my first thought, but I abandoned it for a while in favor of “impoverished lightning,” which eventually struck me as a little too much.
Evan – Thanks. It’s nice to know that you’re getting something out of it – from my perspective, sometimes it seems downright inconsequential. But it’s a great mental exercise, so I’ll keep it up as long as I can.
Fun fun…
Don’t forget forks in software projects.
I did think of those – just couldn’t figure out a way to work them in. Maybe: “…roads, creeks, tongues and software”? :)
Congratulations on this splendid series. Tools, particularly those polished and honed by long usage, deserve such careful and precise treatment.
Thanks, Joe. I’ll try and keep it up for a while; I hope the inspiration doesn’t run dry.
all that hay-pitching reminds me of:
Ode to the Non-Dairy Creamer
No more teats to pull
No more hay to pitch.
Just poke a hole in it
And pour the son-of-a-bitch
Hee! That’s good. Thanks for stopping by.