The Wishbone Poem by Rae Desmond Jones

(For Christine)

i wish:

1
that your little finger
was around the other prong
of the wishbone

2
that the bone would always
remain supple would bend & move
in the fork to my fingers

my tongue the forever probing
of appetite & never break

3
& i would like to lick
the small strands of chicken
slowly off the long slope
of bone

peeling the soft strips
of flesh with my teeth continuing
then along your fingers your arms etc

4
that you could be here
beside me clothes only in the
filaments of poetry

5
that you would be here &
to the infernal music of saxophone
i would foxtrot you poor chicken

lovely chicken & eat you
& all the Gods would assemble
& in the shadows their animal bodies
would tremble & run wild

& slowly disappear as the lights
fold under & the man dressed like a
penguin plays his tragic saxophone
into the dark

leaving us to contemplate alone
the breaking moons in each other’s eyes

6
that i could speak to you the soft
poetry of pale chicken meat &
the threadbare tents of chicken bones
nesting in the plate where there
will be no egg

7
that i could ache & be lonely for
you Orpheus to Eurydice
tormented into infinity & split

forever sweetly into
the chicken halves of intellect &
feeling
8

that you could be here
& would be here & would rock forever
across the flames of uncreated night

knowing never knowing never &
create the phoenix out of
breath
9

that you would then discard
the filaments of poetry being
wholely what you are poetry & being

& snap the bone off at the root
give in to fire & let the wish
take you