Australia, (b. 1947)
The Slaughter
- These were real events:
- the pig killing and dismemberment,
- the skinned fox, the exhumed hat,
- the winter party,
- the bedded calf.
- In the depths of your life
- you said, ‘Son, you clean that knife
- before you hand it back.’
- The fox shot and skun,
- the pig sunk in a bath, its bristles cleaned.
- Who knows what lone molecules
- latched onto which.
- These are real events
- in the cone of time,
- like your arm over me in bed,
- breath in my ear.
- Dear to me, the advent of the hat.
- ‘Keep that, now one of the boys
- might need it.’
- The pug lumbering erratically
- on the spit.
- Winter night, the stars a swarm of white bees, prickling,
- cold, half-delineated outline of the hills;
- the grass sparkled, animals stirred.
- We heard the story of the pet calf,
- thought lost, then found
- stretched out on the double bed.
- Don’t doubt it, this real event
- that ties a string to half a life.
- Old events:
- the exhumed hat, the dead fox,
- the party of us, the slumbering calf.
About the Poet:
Rhyll McMaster, Australia, (b. 1947), a poet, editor, reviewer and novelist. She has also worked as a secretary, a burns unit nurse and a sheep farmer. McMaster’s poems have been appearing in Australian publications since she was sixteen. She now lives in Sydney and has written full-time since 2000.
McMaster has been a chairperson and judge of the NSW Premier’s Literary Awards and fellowships, and a panel chair at the Sydney Writer’s Festival. She has also been poetry editor of The Canberra Times, a reviewer for the Australian Book Review, The Sydney Morning Herald and The Australian, a manuscripts assessor for the National Book Council, and a film scripts assessor for the Film Finance Corporation. [DES-03/18]