Sonnet 17/Thunderbird
Deep in the desert, superstition thrives
Inscribed on totem poles in arid lands
And on men’s lips who in their daily lives
Notice structures built not by human hands.
Lizards with no eyes lie dead in their strives
To taste false black water or hear the chants–
Hard truths passed down behind cheap motel dives,
Swallowed by Navajo, lizards by ants.
Something in the atmosphere of dark drives
Them to bring to life before the fire’s death
The object of derision; among clives,
South of Moab, the subject of their breath:
“What left then took the metal obelisk?
…The thunderbird? Maybe a flying disc?”
Dead Cow
I saw it driving down the road one day
Tipped over at an angle, snout kissing the dirt
And cloven hooves sticking out in midair
Pasted over the canvas in a way that seemed
Unnatural, frozen, separate from the
Chirping birds and shaking leaves of tree branches
Like it was too stiff to be real, but someone had put it there
Anyway. It was so conspicuous that as I passed the thing I could
Not stop my gaze from pivoting to it and then, not even looking at the road,
My eyes grew wide! there it was, scraped into the foreground pushing back landscape
And blocking skyline with its mouth full of cud but
Cut
Open
Neatly
And
Drained
Of
All
Blood!
Zachary Huneycutt (@emergentauthor7) received his A.A. degree in English from Santa Fe College and plans on returning to the University of Florida to work on his B.A. in the fall. He relentlessly pursues publication in literary journals and recently participated in Poets Respond Live on Rattlecast 95, where he gave a reading of his sonnet “The American Idol 2021”. Zachary writes poetry, short stories, plays, skits, etc., has been working on a book trilogy, and has been writing since he was six
Warp 10 