A Feeling That Begins With G
Sometimes, it jumps you like a lioness
that crouches in the dumb-struck grass. Sometimes,
far-off, you’ll see it charging like a rogue
bull elephant that leaves a random mess
of death behind. Like dogged termites, though,
it can burrow deep and slow, eating
unsuspecting beams and trusses secretly
until your house collapses from below.
My friend once dreamed about his mother. After.
He had to push her—in a neighing horsehair
loveseat—up a hill. Later, he could hear
her weeping, but couldn’t find her anywhere.
Is this the feeling that begins with G,
as raw, saw-toothed, and ruthless as the sea?
To hear Malcolm Farley read his poem “A Feeling That Begins with G,” click on the audio play icon below.