By George Starbuck
Here is the grackle, people.
Here is the fox, folks.
The grackle sits in the bracken. The fox
hopes.
Here are the fronds, friends,
that cover the fox.
The fronds get in a frenzy. The grackle
looks.
Here are the ticks, tykes,
that live in the leaves, loves.
The fox is confounded,
and God is above.
George Starbuck, “Fable for Blackboard” from Bone Thoughts. Copyright © 1960 by George Starbuck. Reprinted with the permission of Yale University Press.
Source: The Works: Poems Selected from Five Decades (The University of Alabama Press, 2003)
Poet Bio
George Starbuck was born in Columbus, Ohio. He attended the California Institute of Technology, the University of California, the University of Chicago, and Harvard University. Starbuck spent two years as a corporal in the Military Police Corps before working at various universities. Starbuck was also a contributor to numerous periodicals including The New Yorker, The Atlantic Monthly, and Poetry magazine. He died in 1996 after a twenty-year battle with Parkinson’s disease.
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Translations from the English
Pigfoot (with Aces Under) Passes
The heat’s on the hooker.
Drop’s on the lam.
Cops got Booker.
Who give a damn?
The Kid’s been had
But not me yet.
Dad’s in his pad.
No sweat.
Margaret Are You Drug
Cool it Mag.
Sure it’s a drag
With all that green flaked out.
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Of Tribulation, these are They,
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quartz crusts
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all teeth
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