Raised on Vancouver Island, DAN MacISAAC was educated at the University of Victoria and the University of Alberta. He has worked as a prospector and as a teacher. For over twenty-five years, he has been a trial lawyer in Victoria. His poetry, verse translations, and stories have appeared in a wide variety of literary magazines in Canada, the US, and the UK.
Cries from the Ark
Dan MacIsaac Brick Books
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
MacIsaac, Dan, 1959, author Cries from the ark / Dan MacIsaac.
Poems.
Issued in print and electronic formats. ISBN 978-1-77131-470-1 (softcover).ISBN 978-1-77131-472-5 (PDF).ISBN 978-1-77131-471-8 (EPUB)
I. Title. PS 8625. A c 75 2017 C 811.6 C 2017-902791-3 C2017-902792-1
Copyright Dan MacIsaac, 2017
We acknowledge the Government of Canada, the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Ontario Arts Council for their support of our publishing program.
The author photo was taken by Bernadette MacIsaac .
The cover image is by Mashuk. Design and layout by Marijke Friesen.
Brick Books
431 Boler Road, Box 20081 London, Ontario N K G
www.brickbooks.ca
For Bernadette, Beni, Tobi, and MC, with love
Proverbs from the Ark
Never send a raven to do a doves work. Fear fills an ark; faith empties it. Steer toward rocks. Animals eat their betters.
A tigers hunger is gentler than a youths boredom. The wayward son must drown. Salt in the blood; blood in the water. Send a single raven but a flock of doves. A raven is the brother of Cain; Eve the sister of doves. Abel kept doves; Cain netted them.
Like Leviathans back in a rising tide is the Lord. Like a doves wing over still water is the Lord. A rainbow cannot be grasped. Commandments in stone; vows in light. Always reach is the rainbows vow. The raven is ever returning.
Never send a dove to do a ravens work.
Manx Metamorph
Slick with spray, a laggard cat slinked late for the evac. Lush tail caught in the cypress door and guillotined, waste in the wash, castaway in flood. At the doves arc and tides black turning, that fifth limb drifted to sludge. Quivering, it took rootcovenant of cattails ringing a brash new world of wetlands.
Chilcotin Wild Horses
They died off during the last ice age, and for a century of centuries only the wild grass remembered.
Broomtails blunt-toothed and rough-hoofed, a cayuse herd stole back, crossbred from buffalo runners and a claim-jumpers plug. Flesh foaled from lean Andalusians shipwrecked in America, drawn north across sierra spine and salt lakes. Now from pine scrub to parched grassland, the free herd thunders, hides scarred by snag and thorn, not spurs. Hoofbeats rattle in a volcanos dead throat, crackle across black rocks to open plain. Scoured again by colossal ice or scorched by seismic fire, the Chilcotin turns barren.
Bison: Wallowing
Hewn from humus, chalk, and clay, the bull bison bows down, seething like a hot spring.
Bison: Wallowing
Hewn from humus, chalk, and clay, the bull bison bows down, seething like a hot spring.
Weighed down by a boulder skull, this wall of sod flops into a wallow of churned manure. Under an iron flail of flies, it contorts and writhes, sweating out ticks from its soiled hide into the suety ooze.
Bison: Calving
Tipped out, this split sack of jumbled bits lands on hardpan, junkyard of taiga. From that burst trash bag, a soused thing stilts up, all twisted strings and mismatched parts. This wet puppet lists and staggers across grit and flint, throat dry as rock salt, drawn by thirst cut deep as a gulch.
Bison: Rut
In the orbit of instinct, lust hones.
Bison: Rut
In the orbit of instinct, lust hones.
Beasts stare, stamp, glare, stomp. Horns hook; breath frosts the air. Slow fusion switches to rage. Accelerants rush; fire-skulls propel. Electrons and protons crash, black holes collapse as titans burn down to iron.
Spirit Bear
Ursus americanus kermodei At the rivers black mouth, the white bear waits for the swimmer.
Spirit Bear
Ursus americanus kermodei At the rivers black mouth, the white bear waits for the swimmer.
He crashes into shallows, seizing the quick fish, glisten of silver along cinder lips. A cedar twig cracks. He lunges for the far shore murky with hemlock. He vanishes froth spattered on dark rock.
Garbage Bear
Quarter-ton vermin toppling steel bins, brash and ruinously loud as a steel band, bursting into a bruin buffet of stale-dated Spam, spattered antifreeze, and gouts of chain oil. Putrid smorgasbord, spoils not fit for a goat, bolted down.
It knows want, close cousin to the foul horn of plenty.
Black Bear: Filicide
Winter blackout broken by hunger, the boar, dark Cronus, plunges through drift after the reek of carrion, odour of entrails, retched stench, even the scent of cubs born blind.
Giant Pandas
Contrary creatures, carnivores evolved to live on shoots, bear-cats that the Ming Chinese believed ate copper cooking pots. Bulky as beer kegs, they must slip each hemp-line snare then dodge each hunters blind, becoming addled blurs to the poachers eye. Jailbirds, black-patched lifers hostage to the flowering of bamboo, under house arrest they pace, tagged and monitored, kept to high ground by slash and burn. Tinged snowdrift and deep tree-shade, they just blend in, knowing their place.
Shy cousins to burly cave bears, they slink through time, discrete and buttoned-down as butlers.
Foxy
Vulpes vulpes You scavenge so lightly on the fringe, flitting from hummock to highbush cranberry, flushing varying hares and taiga voles under the cardinals beady eye. Minding the high price on your red coiffure, you dance just outside the range of buckshot. Knowing your poisonstrychnineby scent, you skirt each well-placed and well-seasoned bait. The best-laid leghold traps do not tempt, so practiced are you at saving your own hide. Where are your pranks, your dodges and deceptions? Hunting at the worlds scalloped edge, you shift and vanish.
Illusion is just business.
Sloth
Icon of verdigris and pale lichen, odalisque pelted with algae, ark of beetles and moon moths, paralytic rooster mute as a burl. Slow lover of red hibiscus and tossed, fragrant leaves, hanging sabre clawed and masked like a robber. Torpid idol suited for drowsy sin.
Vancouver Island Wolverine
Gulo gulo vancouverensis Skunk-bear stinking of dead meat, no cuddly poster child for the imperilled Wild. Unseen for half a century, down to one straggler dodging deadfall.
None captive-bred then loosed to wreak havoc on trappers. Embedded in crag, denned in talus, it became its own cache of carrion and never was missed the less said of monsters the better.
Tasmanian Tiger
Shot dead in 1930, the last wild one skulked too close to Battys henhouse. Slayer breed, long extinct, its haunt gone viral. The last live one snarls in a gritty black-and-white clip, ghost skulking in limbo, caught in wireless internet. Grey tiger gapes, iron maw lethal as a leg hold trap.
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