December 2021
Bio Note: I am a Professor of Animal Ecology at the University of Georgia. I enjoy poetry, running, fishing, gardening, songwriting and singing as well as sculpting. I am the father of two daughters and am married to a newly retired professor of nutrition. My poetry publication credits include Pearl, Feh, and a Poetry Motel broadside and I am currently working on a fictional memoir in both graphical and text formats.
Snake Handlers
Not a preacher from
Some Appalachian holler
Not a carny or a zoo tech
I’m a vertebrate ecologist
Teaching a small seminar
For new uni students
Mostly I dispense fact-
Snacks through the virtual
Slots of graphical software
But today, it is herp day,
Live reptiles and amphibians
Come to class for study
Students are mostly from burgs
Where concrete or lawns rule.
Full of their 18 years, wearing
The current fads, gym short and
long tees, fancy running shoes,
That rarely achieve peak speed
Only a rare one has held live
Frog or turtle let alone snake.
The girls are the bravest
Perhaps more committed to
The proposition that
Toads aren’t scary.
Modern Eves, unfazed by
The snake and apple and
And the lie of original sin.
They coax one another with
Mild jibes among friends
But as afternoon closes
Most have held the three foot
Lengths of Corny, the corn snake.
Or Lady the king snake.
Not mere touches, but minutes
Of close contact. Learning to
Support their slithering frames,
“Don’t Grab, just let them flow”
Across forearms and biceps, over
Open hands and flushed warm skin.
A life lesson, one hopes, historic
Selfies and the closing words
“That, was cool”
Originally published in publication
The Dishwasher
I
Rearranging the dish-
Washer is my “thing”.
A family joke run amok,
I peer over shoulders,
“Dad aren’t you glad we’re
Even putting plates in?”
But I move two blue-striped
Bowls from bottom to top
And the small plates to the
Center, where they evade
The rotating sprayer.
Wife and daughters laughing,
“Does it really matter?”
And of course it doesn’t.
Like so many things done,
And said every day. Force
Of habit or the mirage of
Control of our environment,
As in this is “my” house.
II
It is my one attempt at
Engineering, or is it Geometry?
Filling a finite space to
The maximum. Efficiency
Squared. Or you might just
Think me lazy. While I
Ensure the lowest number
Of dishes that I myself must
Wash. Or perhaps a mild
Neurosis, my inability to just
Let things slide, like lights
On throughout the night.
Accepting what I cannot change.
III
When they were younger
And had friends sleep
Over, after lights out, when
They were nestled in bed
Small bird voices would
Fly out from their
Slightly opened doors
“What’s that noise?”
“Oh don’t worry, it’s
Just my Dad rearranging
The dishwasher”.
©2021 Gary Grossman
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