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#ecopoetics
Terror-rium We had an aquarium A river, a lake, a sea. On our desk—the ocean. Our exotic fish, fished from the very river, lake, or sea which we have now. On our desk—we provide forage, food, plants, water, and fish. The aquarium had us. … We had an insectarium An arachnid, an insect, a butter -fly. On our counter—the air. Our countertop full of flourishing flowers, fluttering wings of broken butterflies, falling from feed, because they drink—and we pluck their wings, tape them to tapestries to stare. Say, how pretty they are. The insectarium had us … We had a terrarium. A desert, a savannah, a floor of sand. Our room is lit by a woodland, a jungle, a place we’ve never been. African violets decorate our reptiles, all scales and shells and condensation. It rains today—the lid which collected our precipitation. Our pebbled floor, formed over our marbled kitchen. The terrarium had us … We had an arium, and we destroyed it to keep them on our desks, nuzzled between family portraits and pens, to remind ourselves of what We used to have and what we’ll never have again, but at least they are pretty, and no one needs National Geographic to stare anymore. We have our countertops. ... This was read at the University of Kansas on May 10, 2013: http://shannonathompson.com/2013/05/10/contest-winners-and-poetry-from-my-ku-reading/
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Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 6:43 PM UTC
shannon-a-thompson
Terror-rium
Terror-rium We had an aquarium A river, a lake, a sea. On our desk—the ocean. Our exotic fish, fished from the very river, lake, or sea which we have now. On our desk—we provide forage, food, plants, water, and fish. The aquarium had us. … We had an insectarium An arachnid, an insect, a butter -fly. On our counter—the air. Our countertop full of flourishing flowers, fluttering wings of broken butterflies, falling from feed, because they drink—and we pluck their wings, tape them to tapestries to stare. Say, how pretty they are. The insectarium had us … We had a terrarium. A desert, a savannah, a floor of sand. Our room is lit by a woodland, a jungle, a place we’ve never been. African violets decorate our reptiles, all scales and shells and condensation. It rains today—the lid which collected our precipitation. Our pebbled floor, formed over our marbled kitchen. The terrarium had us … We had an arium, and we destroyed it to keep them on our desks, nuzzled between family portraits and pens, to remind ourselves of what We used to have and what we’ll never have again, but at least they are pretty, and no one needs National Geographic to stare anymore. We have our countertops. ... This was read at the University of Kansas on May 10, 2013: http://shannonathompson.com/2013/05/10/contest-winners-and-poetry-from-my-ku-reading/
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