Outfoxed
There’s a jester capering on the lawn,
flashing white and orange motley
at the sun.
Loki, Harlequin, jackanape, he flounces
his brush, struts on two legs,
waltzes tenderly with a dead rat.
At his desk in the shrubbery
he scribbles elegies for chickens, dreams
of a pamphlet with Foxy and Foxier.
Turns out he’s published everywhere:
a foxtrot track of paws denting
the douce gravel,
skittled bottles on a concrete doorstep,
ravaged bins splayed across the pavement
and all around, that scent of musk.
Coming home tonight, my senses
sharpened up to needle tips, I see my house,
alien in the purple sunset;
the desk lamp’s shining in the study,
my ears prick out the tapping of a keyboard;
in the dusk, all the door locks smell brand new.
Published in the Live Canon Anthology, 2024