February 2, 2010

Kenneth Radu

Swan Song

Worms in the heart,
brain cells riddled
by primeval dreams,
blood gone sour:
whatever leads
to love of extinctions
is there, insistent
in the mute chemistry
of nuclei.

A wild swan whiter
than first snow flew
from a wilder north
to civilized terrain
where it sat for a day
on a frozen pond
and warmed the cold air.

Shot:          dragged
bloody across the gray ice,
feathers cracked off;
later seen by a camera’s eye
curved around ducks
port butts and bags of corn
in deep and cold conservation.


Kenneth Radu's poems have appeared in fourpaperletters, Leaf Garden, Asphodel Madness, Eviscerator Heaven, and elsewhere. He lives in Quebec.

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