I was also much entertained by Terese's book and particularly by this which I took to be an apt metaphor for mothering the family.
Ark
The river’s up, we’re flooded, launch the ark!
The rubber dinghy’s loaded with the food,
The fishing gear, the children—let’s embark
and head out to the Isles of Altitude,
where we can find a perch to ululate
and mull the tales of far-flung inundation.
Malaria, Mosquitoes? I’ll uncrate
the quinine, homing pigeons, medication.
The mainsail’s torn, good water’s all sold out,
the chimps are in the crow’s nest with your headset,
the mildew’s rank, we’ve lost the runabout—
even if I had a cigarette,
I couldn’ t take more torrents and this growing
wilderness of wet things, oceangoing.
A la Housman, why not?
The Elephant or Force of Habit
A tail behind, a trunk in front,
Complete the usual elephant.
The tail in front, the trunk behind
Is what you very seldom find.
If you for specimens should hunt
With trunks behind and tails in front,
That hunt would occupy you long;
The force of habit is so strong.
Jim
[This message has been edited by Jim Hayes (edited June 29, 2005).]
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