Printer Friendly

Bear fat.

When the old man rubbed my back with bear fat I dreamed the winter horses had eaten the bark off trees and the tails of one another. I slept a hole into my own hunger that once ate lard and bread from a skillet seasoned with salt. Fat was the light I saw through the eyes of the bear three bony dogs leading men into the grass-lined cave of sleep to kill hunger as it slept itself thin. They grew fat with the swallowed grease. They ate even the woodashes after the fire died and when they slept, did they remember back to when they were wolves? I am afraid of the future as if I am the bear turned in the stomach of needy men or the wolf become a dog that will turn against itself remembering what wildness was before the crack of a gun, before the men tried to kM it or tame it or tried to make it love them.
COPYRIGHT 1993 World Poetry, Inc.
No portion of this article can be reproduced without the express written permission from the copyright holder.
Copyright 1993 Gale, Cengage Learning. All rights reserved.

Article Details
Printer friendly Cite/link Email Feedback
Author:Hogan, Linda
Publication:The American Poetry Review
Date:May 1, 1993
Previous Article:Saigyo: Poems of a Mountain Home.
Next Article:Crossings.

Terms of use | Copyright © 2017 Farlex, Inc. | Feedback | For webmasters