Bruce McRae

 
Space Weather
   
A rain of heated rocks and antimatter,
alarmed citizens dashing for shelter,
cursing the gods and government,
the weathergirl nodding off in her chair,
electromagnetic hail playing havoc
with satellites and phone reception,
the old crone banging her television,
its screen clouded over with static hiss,
cosmic rays and solar flares
all part of a bigger picture,
those falling stars not stars at all,
unmoved by the whims of prediction.
 

Pocket
 
Reaching in
I pull out a tooth,
a lead toy soldier,
a map of chaos,
smudged instructions.
 
Reaching down
I can touch
the Earth, a moon,
two godheads,
three spiders’ breaths,
the frozen juices
found on Ganymede.
 
In my pocket
I carry your name,
a magical pebble,
a gram of opium.
And the very bullet
from the very gun
used to slaughter
the last of innocence.
 
It feels like
a hole or ice to me.
It feels like
blood on my hands.
 
 
Quick Assessment
 
You look like a dog
that’s just been shown a card trick.
You look as if your kitten has gone missing.
Like someone has casually mentioned
your mother is not your mother.
That your soup is too hot and too cold.
 
Instead, why not bow to a different master?
Why not go down to the sea
and throw stones at the waves?
Or let me put it his way; a pig grows fat
but a hog gets slaughtered.
 
 
 Old Hat
   
Buying a used hat.
Putting it on.
Thinking about the head
that used to fit it,
the thoughts it thought,
the unusual hairstyle
it wore for decades,
for far too long, really.
 
Putting my head into
another man’s hat.
Wondering if he wondered
or needlessly worried,
taking it off
as he scratched his head,
tipping it politely
when he met the vicar,
placing it down gently
at the foot of his bed.
 
 

Bruce McRae, a Canadian musician currently residing on Salt Spring Island BC, is a multiple Pushcart nominee with over 1,500 poems published internationally in magazines such as Poetry, Rattle and the North American Review. His books are ‘The So-Called Sonnets (Silenced Press); ‘An Unbecoming Fit Of Frenzy; (Cawing Crow Press) and ‘Like As If” (Pski’s Porch), Hearsay (The Poet’s Haven).

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