my turn

The fox has been in

can you come?

New years day

head banging to the beat

of last nights band

roll over

find things to wear

its an f cold day

to go out & do

driving there

the man will be upset

he’ll not show it

his mrs tho’….

they’ve raised kids to adult

had successful businesses

but these ducks

he told me late one night

(strong refreshment had been had)

I caught a fox one time in a cage

put my twelve bore down his throat

pulled one

then the other


I get there

we sit with tea

warming hands


to go & do

what needs

must be done

she is quiet

fussing over the wood stove

he sits, talks, of last night

of any other things


when the timing is right

of the fox

‘didn’t hear a thing

then she went to feed

this morning

came back in tears

the fox…the fox’

he looked hard into his mug

more tea?

I said no

time to go


we got up

thanked her for her tea

trying not to see the pale

went out into the cold

walked on stiff white grass

to the pen

the fox had come in under a wire

there in the corner

had eaten one

half of the second

& killed ten more

blood, feathers, shit


we picked them up

cold dead things

a weight

that once flew

called as we fed them

we tacked down the corner

found the other ducks


the trees


stamping our feet

to keep off the cold

announce our presence

calling them

in white steamed air

we got them rounded up

& he said

I’m going to put a cage out

bait it with a couple of dead ducks

I nodded

great idea

& when you catch him

call me

its my turn on the trigger


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