I don't blame the grizzly
for the night-time tent raid,
the mauling of the wife,
the maiming of the husband.
The bear was old and tired
and winter had been long.
And the couple knew the risks.
The guy had said so on TV.
At any given moment,
we're as close to desires and hungers
as we are to rats.
We're all of us capable
of fulfilling another's need
A mugger could slay me for my wallet.
A car could knock me sideways
and all for the space I'm standing in.
Some people camp out in the danger.
Others just live where anything is possible.
I don't blame my vulnerability.
I've been mauled and maimed by worse.
***
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in New World Writing, North Dakota Quarterly and Lost Pilots. Latest books, ”Between Two Fires”, “Covert” and “Memory Outside The Head” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in California Quarterly, Seventh Quarry, La Presa and Doubly Mad.
