Reneé Beauregard

Professional Squirrel


I. On the Enclosed Poem

 

Dear Miss.

This poem is a barnacled ovary on our desks and

we (in its wake) have built

yellow oceans of bile behind our teeth.

We have knotted our knuckles over

our bloated trout bellies and we have

dry heaved from our eyeballs.

Judith, my partner, chomps her mouth

like a dribbling bow-tie dummy and we agree:

this poem is too strange and

this poem is not strange enough.

 

If it weren’t about squirrels, Miss. It would be a go.

 

II. The Enclosed Poem

 

Professional Squirrel is delighted

that you caught him,

dug him up, a Winter Nut Finding.

You searched in the beagle way

(Snow Nose)

(Ol’ Truffle Pig)

googling and scrolling

till you found Professional Squirrel.

 

You found him on Facebook,

but he regrets to inform you

(Truffle Pig)

(O Finder of Professional Squirrel)

that Facebook Friendship is over and

crossing the line.

 

Professional Squirrel has Professional Boundaries.

 

Now that he has told you,

(Poor Slob)

(Silly Basset)

You will take your moan-rum taffy,

your howl-wet tongue,

and wipe the Professional Rejection

Evidence

from your Facebook wall.

 

III. Judith

 

Judith could love

this poem if she had not popped

the small cone toenails from the feet

of the squirrel her mother loved

when Judith was small (like the

toenails).

 

Or if she had not pressed a toothpick

(chewed and undignified) into

the rectum (small, like Judith)

of the squirrel, who bled and closed its eyes and

remembered what it was like to wear a nut in the dark

hood of its mouth.

 

IV. Myself

 

And me, I could not love

this poem, even if my husband

(another squirrel rectum-rapist at least twenty

years ago, when it was not strange, we reason)

did not wear his furry trousers and the headpiece

in our bed, and even if I had not, over the years, hidden

handfuls of ground-gathered acorns in his own rectum.

He did beg me, and it was only at night, we reason, when

it was not strange.)

 

V. We Release This Poem

 

And invite you to submit again, but wait at least

one season, as we are experiencing a high volume of

rectal sympathy pains, and we expect them

to subside by winter.

*     *

back to Issue 3 contents page

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