Low Dose Yoga
by Bill Yarrow
Names are forbidden here. So is apology.
But the hairy father is welcome. He carries
a cauldron of mercy and a crying cat. He
sits cross legged on the dais and begins
to recite the Prayer to Missing Mammals.
All the acolytes in the audience bow their
speckled heads. A faint fragrance of music
wafts into the hall. There are chandeliers
everywhere. The back wall is painted in
window-sized checks of vermillion and green.
Above a long table with plates of pita and gray
hummus is a map of the world with blue pins
in the rivers.The Master passes out calendars.
We are, he says,
the book the future
wants us to read.
But the hairy father is welcome. He carries
a cauldron of mercy and a crying cat. He
sits cross legged on the dais and begins
to recite the Prayer to Missing Mammals.
All the acolytes in the audience bow their
speckled heads. A faint fragrance of music
wafts into the hall. There are chandeliers
everywhere. The back wall is painted in
window-sized checks of vermillion and green.
Above a long table with plates of pita and gray
hummus is a map of the world with blue pins
in the rivers.The Master passes out calendars.
We are, he says,
the book the future
wants us to read.
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Author's Note
This poem appeared in the inaugural issue of OF ZOOS.
It also appears in POINTED SENTENCES (BlazeVOX 2012).
Other stories by Bill Yarrow
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Marvelous.* (snapping fingers on this one)
Crafty. *
Why do I never believe lines like the last?
When told to us by gurus, I mean.
Chandeliers too?
Ha!
Love it. The first three sentences are hilarious.*
Good one, Bill.
Beautifully structured poem, descriptive language, visionary paradox. *
Cool! Love the structure, the unexpected leaps, the obvious control. Brilliant.
"a cauldron of mercy and a crying cat..." love it.
Love this, love this, love this!!! What amazing lines. The opening, OMG.********
This is the Yarrow I love to read! Words working with words in phrases that work the heart and mind.
Bill, as Colorado goes up in flames, and I think of all the animals killed in the deadly wildfires, this poem is balm. Very beautiful. Bless your empathetic talented soul.