in the interim he would have to save the barn
from immanent collapse and therein create
a suite for his future mother-in-law so he helped
the carpenter jack up the backside a half-foot
to replace rotten sill and sketched out plans     tracked down
a building permit     suspended new doors and windows
learned to use a variable-speed screwdriver far from expertly
hung drywall     painted walls and floors     laid vinyl flooring
and then     while waiting for plumbers to finish that job
it was a honeymoon ferry trip to Mohegan Island
as well as a traipse along autumnal Popham Beach
as he formally became oh so trustingly hers
as if any of this was in any way near finished

Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To read the full set of squirrelly poems, click here.

when the snake that would have entered the burrow
had become a clothes line, pinned with nursing pups

nonetheless, when it came to his own yapping brood,
he was as territorial as any other male

running the risk of trying to span too much
when it came down to choosing sides,

he found no compassion for the frenzy
leaping from the bay window and

scurrying on the arm of his astonished roofer
no warmth, either, for overnight gnawing

through pristine crown molding
confronted by his rivals’ succeeding wave

weaned every three or four months,
who did he think he was, trying to command

shipshape precision in this collision?
it was only natural, then, his attempts

to shield his own from foul heavens
should invoke clownish tragedy or cannibalistic humor

just why would he assume in this life or that
anything was holding above their heads?

the roof is a bridge
between trees

*   *   *

squirrels would be snipers
rather than muster in any militia

Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To read the full set of squirrelly poems, click here.

a squirrel sees a landscape
varying at multiple levels

look up to a branch
it’s there

*   *   *

would he go?
would she come?

he’s been there
before              and any good squirrel is wary

let’s be sensible
invoking
misadventures

*   *   *

to be lying flat against
the opposite side of a tree

such a useful skill
he could use at the office

*   *   *

the vampire
or witch

versus

a squirrel
and crossbones

in the exquisite
extrapolation

Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To read the full set of squirrelly poems, click here.

 

their house and yard
lined a three-block street
that wasn’t straight but
bent, twice, away from due north
or an east-west axis

the squirrels there knew nothing of the next
state or globe     their world of endless
branching comprehends no sphere

each time he leaped, he’d forget who I am
all the same, gravity fashions
a turn toward chaos or quietude
expecting a center-point
it’s a pattern, yes,
the interlocking repetition
say of old wallpaper
shaping a marriage

of course they like flowers
rolls and glue, page after page,
all through the years
yellowing into decades

whatever turns
you on
makes you sorry
rubs nerves
pulling stuff
like that
live and learn
sweet revenge
isn’t you anyway

flaying those arms in Beulah Land

*   *   *

of course it was us versus them

*   *   *

he could hear masons warning new roofing shingles
were needed, pronto, and even he knew what damage a leak
could inflict all before their Great Plumber Shortage
he switched off This Old House episodes where workmen
arrive in time to preclude disaster     his was now nothing
or all kinds of superstition     so his reserves dwindled
even approaching the sump pump     what music, then?
ring around, pocket full of worry
they had a cache of cash

*   *   *

a true adversary
you soon come to resemble

of course he was furious
returning

to the newly replaced crown molding
they’d gnawed through in an hour

while they nested in the wall
his library reeked

*   *   *

“Calm? When are you ever calm?”

 Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To read the full set of squirrelly poems, click here.