Tell me what
is this aberration, this final cut-glass
apparatus? What are you holding me for,
on this earthquaked-ground with madness filling
my ears, with no relief from the quickening, no shortcut
to liberation? What whim am I? Eventual.
I am eventual, grounded only by my children and the
animals that pace my floors. I will do a visible
decisive deed if that is what you want or I will
suck in the deadening-pretend, barbaric in its stupidity,
disingenuous in its over-rated kindness. What is left?
Tell me, deprive me of government, of natural things
that others have, but tell me what you want me ready
for. Hire me with this particular fruit. Let me be noble,
eliminate my doubt, my fear of being wrong or cruel. Take me
into your music, pound my spirit with your weight and
effort. Tell me what rabid ghost I must put down.
put it down.
Copyright © 2010 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “The Kitchen Poet” December 2013
You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
“Her (Allison Grayhurst’s) poetry appears visceral, not for the faint of heart,
and moves forward with a dynamism, with a frenetic pulse. If you seek the truth,
the physical blood and bones, then, by all means, open the world into which
we were all born,” Anne Burke, poet, regional representative for Alberta
on the League of Canadian Poets’ Council, and chair of the Feminist Caucus.
“What a treasure Allison Grayhurst is. Her gift? To unfold for us life at this intensity of feeling and revelation. Who knew truth and beauty could be so intertwined and so passionate?,” Taylor Jane Green BA, RIHR, CH, Registered Holistic Talk Therapist, and author of Swan Wheeler: A North American Mythology, Swan – A Planetary Mythology, and The Rise of Eros, 2014.