Owen Marshall is the master of the short story. His gift for economy of word and phrase works well in poems too.
Today’s contribution to poetry month is Marsha’lls Ingratitude one of 50 poems in his book Occasional, published by Hazard Press, 2004.
I hesitate to look the gift horse of existence in
the mouth, aware of all who have sack shuffled
into perpetual darkness, paid the ferryman his
coin, and those ova and spermatozoa impatiently
queuing on the chancy waiting list for the golden
interlude of life: that great oncer. Yet now I’m
old enough to have been around the traps, seen
the unheroic flipsides of this world’s flats, I
hear an inner voice, Oliver’s sad twin, which asks
not is there any more, but is there something else?
– Owen Marshall –