Poem of the Month
Each month Ancient Eagle Press offers a poem appropriate to the season or the mood of our editorial staff. Poems may be new or drawn from existing AEP editions.
Where Old Fliers Come to Roost
Archives
July 2018 - One Can Have Knowledge...
June 2018 -- The Unsinkable Molly Drown
May 2018 -- Advice to my Grandson
April 2018 -- Awaiting Idunn
March 2018 -- Flight
February 2018 -- Lakesong
January 2018 -- Schrödinger's Cat
December 2017 -- Daybreak
October 2017 -- Night Watch
September 2017 -- The Princess
August 2017 - Pelham
July 2017 -- Siena
June 2017 -- Loyal, Straight, and True
May 2017 -- A Thousand Flowers
April 2017 -- Oboe Rap
March 2017 - March Madness
February 2017 -- The Cost of Doing Business
January 2017 -- Reflection at a Winter Window
December 2016 -- The Creation
November 2016 -- Hemolymph Moon
October 2016 -- Vortex
September 2016 -- Do You?
August 2016 -- Sailing
July 2016 -- Mulberries
June 2016 -- Off Tucker Point
May 2016 -- Unforgettable
April 2016 -- At Night She Cries
August 2018
We have just survived the wettest July on record. The yard, normally bleached to amber by the July drought, is lush, verdant and soggy from house to bog. It is a lovely scene, and one that supports a bumper crop of coleoptera, hymenoptera, hemipterans and their fellows. For those who are a bit buggy for bugs, it is a bonanza. Each day reveals another species previously hidden from even the most dedicated observer. Here’s hoping the rains carry on thru August. And speaking of August and carrying on, it’s time to write the August Poem of the Month. Let’s feed the beast!
Ancient Eagle Press
Feeding the Beast
Papers full of news that rankles,
Chiggers chomping on my ankles,
Storm clouds building in the East,
Time to go and feed the beast.
Bills are piled upon the table,
Stacked up like the Tower of Babel,
Bread won’t rise without some yeast,
Time to go and feed the beast.
Got no job to keep me busy,
Too much coffee makes me dizzy,
One thing I have left, at least:
Time to go and feed the beast.
No one knocks and no one answers,
Mimes admire the wooden dancers,
Homeless nuns dream of a feast,
Time to go and feed the beast.
Dumping letters in the chasm,
Twitching with a sinner’s spasm,
Tribute to a fallen priest,
Time to go and feed the beast.
Lee Alloway 2018