Where the thick cord rasped between her hard toes
as she kicked and jerked, harder
than she ever had while I milked her,
than when I dared to trim her back hooves
(she kicked so hard she
nearly tipped the plywood stanchion,
both legs flying hammers as I held on) as
her veins pounded against the collar
and she couldn’t get up
because her hoof
Red granules invaded her
Clear slotted eyes
And rolled from her coarse fawn coat.
Earth’s entrails heaved as we hid her from view.
Very sad. I've come home to dead animals before too. The worst was when my pet rabbit was strewn about the yard. For weeks I found bits of fur stuck on nails and blowing through the grass.
It seemed distanced. Dead. Perhaps this was stylistic, perhaps it was numbness, like I feel when something terrible has happened and I have resigned myself to reality.
I found it interesting that the first five lines and the last stanza were very cropped and in a way, abstractly described (though the point of blood and so on was clearly found), and the middle stanza was almost like you were telling the story exactly as it was, and the only thing keeping it from prose was the formatting. (This isn't bad - I write prose-ish poetry myself, it's just interesting.
I also found interesting the very first two lines, "Glossy fur Remains." At first I didn't like it, found it confusing. I thought it should be one line, that it didn't make sense in two, but then I realized this was actually quite good as with this formatting, you get three meanings out of what might have been only one. There is the first I got, which was glossy fur remains-as-in-there. This probably being the most shallow of the three. Then next, I realized, in two lines, it also means Glossy fur which could be taken as a living animal, followed ominously and stopped dead in its tracks (no pun intended) by the word remains meaning dead. Then also, and this one doesn't make quite as much sense as the first two, but still present in my mind, glossy fur remains as in the remains are glossy fur, I know this is sort of the same, btu it seems separate somehow, as if it were not even an animal but very separate from what it was when it was alive and now it is just fur.
I also really liked at the end there, the last three lines. The idea of the earth's entrails heaving seemed animal-like in itself, almost a reincarnation idea (though that's not something that I believe in, but that's what I get.), the goat that no longer is taken in by the earth that does and it will create new life...
Good write. You kept me very intrigued by your wordplay.
Wow. Wonderful, wonderful images. Just a suggestion or two, not much to complain about. I like how you used the parenthases, most don't do it very well in poetry. In one instance, however, I have a comment...
'(she kicked so hard she nearly tipped the plywood stanchion, both legs flying hammers as I held on) as'
perhapse you should move "as" down, to begin the next line. The way is it it sort of distracts from the secondary point you ar trying to make.
'Warm dry dust below the frost line, Bones.'
I absolutely love that ending. It's so final, so fitting. Great job with this!
A great poem. A one dimensional portait of the demise of your goat. A simple but powerful eulogy to a deserving animal. The death of animals is always hard. I've had a bull, a cow, a pig, sundry sheep die from disease and accident an d as the saying goes, "If you have livestock, you will have deadstock."
a couple of years ago, one of my new borned buffalos got taken by a coyote. those damn things like to creep through the fence and snatch up the weaker ones. It's a part of life...i didn't know that livestock were kept by tether ropes. seems like a good way to lead to a mess. the writing here was full of panic, and somehow you turned into a "morbid" writing? are a lot of your poems that morbid. morbid is a tad boring, you should have tried to capture the fear of the goat as it was choking to death by it's own rope. That would have had a much better effect, and it would have had a lasting efect on the brain. I will agree with hanuman, if you have livestock...you have deadstock, it's just life.