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I am that giraffe in the photograph.
by Ryan NardiLong, since I was shorter,
I stand, head above the trees
like brittle green water.
And down where my knees
used to be, there's a dark
cloud gathering speed.
Off-the-cuff spittle could spark
the long baking brush 'neath the waves
where vegetarians eat like sharks.
These are not spots, they are saved
remnants of the color I used to be.
The lines are cracks I can't shave.
While you weren't talking to me,
my horns grew tufts of hair,
where you left me, mid-stride, in the heat.
Now, ask me if I'll make black-tongue-flickered air.
Ask me if my long-faced grin really cares. 08/30/2008 Author's Note: Submission for a contest, inspired by Lauri Blum's picture of a giraffe.
Posted on 08/30/2008
Copyright © 2024 Ryan Nardi
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 08/31/08 at 02:54 PM Cool!!!!! Creative, refreshing, vital. |
| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 09/03/08 at 02:06 PM ...ryan, so glad to see this one spotlighted...i thought i already sent my wows to you and yet i notice i did not...duh! to me...i read this last week or so and thought wonders about it: it was from a prompt[not easy]and i love the word-choice from the first line...i am chagrined that i haven't bragged on this pome before now, and i thought i had, double duh! now that you're somebody nahahahaha...great work. |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 09/03/08 at 02:50 PM Ryan - I sure hope you are going to enter this in the Poetry/Forums/Contest/Photopoetagraphy thread. It is terrific. |
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