American Life in Poetry: Column 245

I love the way the following poem by Susie Patlove opens, with the little rooster trying to “be what he feels he must be.” This poet lives in Massachusetts, in a community called Windy Hill, which must be a very good place for chickens, too.

Poor Patriarch

The rooster pushes his head

high among the hens, trying to be

what he feels he must be, here

in the confines of domesticity.

Before the tall legs of my presence,

he bristles and shakes his ruby comb.

Little man, I want to say

the hens know who they are.

I want to ease his mistaken burden,

want him to crow with the plain

ecstasy of morning light as it

finds its winter way above the woods.

Poor outnumbered fellow,

how did he come to believe

that on his plumed shoulders

lay the safety of an entire flock?

I run my hand down the rippled

brindle of his back, urge him to relax,

drink in the female pleasures

that surround him, of egg laying,

of settling warm-breasted in the nest

of this brief and feathered time.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2007 by Susie Patlove from Quickening, Slate Roof Press, 2007. Reprinted by permission of Susie Patlove and the publisher. Introduction copyright © 2009 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.