Cheryl J. Fish: Box of Noses

Fall '11 TOC

for Joshua

He dashes out from behind a car
confronts you, smirks.
Then he’s gone.  You scowl as he becomes part
of a street lamp, a spy beside a hedge, monitoring footsteps.

On his belly in the Queen’s Garden, munching
chocolate,  he pulls off  your shoe.
Inside the city’s old fortification
He struggles to lift a cannonball until the guard removes him.

He poses as the famous Little Mermaid on her seaside pedestal
(she’s in Shanghai, away on loan)
In the moat, he better not float with the swans.

Inside the vault of Kronborg Castle, he crouches 
Hoping to trip the guide. She chokes him with cigarette smoke.

“Are the tapestries rough or smooth?”   NO TOUCHING!
“Can we walk in the sand on the gallery floor?”  IT CAN’T BE MOVED.
Pushing buttons on the computer screen beats being inside
a museum. (Except for THE STATUES—torsos, missing heads,
hands, and noses. COOL)

There are the noses, in a BIG box. These schnozzles fit on some ancient Greek’s face
Defiant proboscises’ whose designs finally arrest him.
Which one do you think is for Zeus?
Zeus, the thunderbolt, eagle, bull, and oak
deserves a substantial beak,


He who strikes terror in our hearts.

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Not Enough Night
Not Enough Night
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