Snakesi.How I dreamed of Paradise,
this southern land at the world's edge,
weeks of blue water separating old from new.
I tasted air in my dreams,
faint hills, mounds of whales;
the beginning of things.
There was no serpent in this garden,
just lushness of green forest,
the sky's lustre rubbed to a gleaming
and knowledge to be gathered,
growing and glowing
like a yellow pumpkin storing sunlight.
Who'd have thought?
Who'd have bargained for serpents under every stone,
black shadows grimacing,
their eves tight with malice.
John has no fear of them.
He laughs.
Says if I want Adventure I must contend
with the odd serpent/monster/dragon.
He calms the seething pictures
that rage and fire in my head.
ii.My plan is perfect.
Better than Lady Macbeth's;
less fiendish, more watertight.
A bounty on their heads!
One shilling for every black length
limbing its dead way to my door.
iii.
Six hundred pounds I've spent.
Those tired, black rags
lolling over shoulders,
are eating fortunes.
And do they abate?
No. When I close my eyes
they hiss and slither,
their withered skins writhe
and slide, their tails sinuous
and sleek as devils.
No. For all this work,
this hatching of plans
- catching, despatching -
when I close my eyes
the snakes multiply.
Originally published in Coastlines, n.3, 2003. From Jane, Lady Franklin
(This poem is spoken by Jane, Lady Franklin, wife of Sir John Franklin, Lieutenant-Governor of Van Diemen's Land from 1837 to 1843. Jane had a phobia about snakes. She devised a way of ridding the island of its snakes by placing a bounty on their heads, spending a small fortune before being dissuaded from the scheme.) |
