the Marmot
’the groundhog on the mountain did not run
but fatly scuttled into the splayed fern
& faced me, back to a ledge of dirt
to rattle her sallow teeth
like castanets’
- sylvia plath
... the marmot’s a wretched varmint
a scheming rascal thief
a crooked conning
cunning klepto
& a larcenous little beast
he is a byways hijacker
a shameless junkie filcher
a bold & shameless rat’keteer
a pure purloining pilferer
a terrible tundra terror
a fat dastardly scalawag
a meaty mischievous miscreant
the cagey dregs
of the crags
a chirping vulture, circling
a precocious rapscallion prig
a scoundrel
called the ‘rock chuck’
& sometimes too
the ‘whistle pig’
plump & dumpy
stocky stumpy
rotund & low slung
20 pounds of lumbering lusting
wretched, waddling hun
the groundhogs’ greedy cousin
an overgrown guinea pig
parts pika beaver wombat
the squirrel’s bastard king
the life
his coat is thick, long & coarse
chocolate brown & red gray
bushy & white frosted
belly’s yellah, like they say
he wears coats
like horsemen cloaks
head high, naked & bare
buck-toothd jaws
long dirty claws
& beady black eyed glares
he lives upon, under, beneath
beside & throughout the rocks
in elaborate communal mazes
he heads harem herds & flocks
dank dark dirty deep dug dens
beneath broad boulder piles
grass-lined lairs
snared trophy wares
& escape tunnels
styled with guile
he cuts sod plugs
for tunnels dug
to close his many doors
winter locks them cold
with ice & snow
& he lets go
an eight month snore
& then he is stuck
& out of luck
till warm spring returns again
burning pacing yearning
in his dirty little pen
super hungry
he emerges
consumed by hunger
a wild starving beast
chews & bores thru melting doors
& heads out to hills to feast
he eats like a demon dervish
mad wild blind
possessed
winters roar long
oer summers’ song
throughout
the mountain west
he chomps with sheer abandon
on anything close to green
branches & moss
chutes & lichen floss
he gnaws off
the whole live scene
foraged frantic
grains & grasses
exhumed legumes & roots
seeds & nuts
gobbled gluts
untarried by unripe fruit
he chews thru crops & farm fields
all succulent new green flesh
he’d gladly eat an outfield
he digs sweet clover best
he loves fresh flowers & sweet buds
pollen & petals, leaves, stamens & stems
he ravages them … massacres
& then eats all their friends
he is not selective
he shows no mercy
when he eats
just mows to the ground
stubs, cut down
wreaking ravage
bare & bleak
a day in the life
summer is for digesting
grooming
preening
& chirping
leisurely lazy
waddling
grazing
& sunning
like butter dripping
he slow surveys surroundings
proud perches
crisp alpine scenes
& come owls & hawks
bears, martins & fox
for the rocks!
he whistles & flees
but come hiking humans?
whistle pigs make different sounds
chirp signals swell
like dinner bells
& now
marmots abound
plotting, slyly slinking
they come mum
trotting & bounding
like sharks with no fear
whole waves appear
& veer near
surrounding
they come direct like mendicants
on the path
with upraised palms
emboldened
& paws folded
pleading shameless
begging alms
they stand tall
high, on hind legs
or haunch humbly hoping
a hunch
& thank you
oh so kindly, too
for bringing them
their lunch
they have no fear of photos
mugging poses - aww too cute!
so long as you don’t mind
… relax recline
while they chew on your boot!
the raid
& heaven help those they meet
whose camps remain unguarded
marmots will eat
& eat
in olympian feats
& leave no treat
un-marmot-marred’ed
they drift in, noses twitching
searching sniffing
scouting snacks
then return at night
by moonlight
to raid tents
& knapsacks
unstuffable
voracious
insatiable
shameless
they galavant
dismember shred chew
& leave a thousand clues
like tornadoes blew
thru camp
jonesin
a junky is a junky is a junky
& marmots are the very worst
they crave salt … crazed
in ways way depraved
like camels & cacti thirst
saline rined
sodium & brine
embalmed
or the slightest trace
they lose their minds
blind swines a’vie
addicted to the taste!
SALT
they stop at nothing.
unquenchable & enslaving
withdrawal achings
& hankerings
hellbent
sating cravings
& the greatest possible flavor
to savor, above the rest?
things soaked profuse
with new brewed juice
sluiced from hard hike sweats
sopping t-shirts are tops
dripping drenched
still soaked from treks
the most flavorful bits?
sleeves & armpits
& salt-stained
collars & necks
jackets & ponchos & parkas
sweaters sodden with smoke
perspiration cured
& campfire preserved
aspen soy sauce soaked
perfectly pickled
pungent pant pockets
pack-percolated
& still stewing
delectable denim
like dill & fennel
just be careful of zippers
when chewing
marinated boxers & underwear
zing
pungent
fishy & sour
an acquired taste
but tragedy to waste
such delectable delights to devour
no sight is sweeter than a clothesline
pinned long with succulent socks
spirits uplift
at the sight of such gifts
like bonbons
in a row
in a box
brow sweat bandannas
are aperitifs
snacks or folded hors d’eouevers
marvelous great prequels
& also great sequels
however thus
they may be served
backpacks are four-course endeavors
shells liners pouches & flaps
goretex & fleece
each piece by piece
but tastiest of all
are the straps
hiking pole grips like jerky
so too, snowshoe rawhide
leather patches & gloves
tenderized with love
like beef & ocean
pan-fried
soft sleeping pads are chewy
& seasoned by hot night
beget sweats
then sun roasted scents
steam thru the vents
accenting the vinaigrettes
beersoaked campchairs are stringy
travel guide maps just a bit dry
footballs are a blast
but beware leaking gas
they taste like exploding surprise
tissue & towels for fiber
greasy napkins
quickly digest
wrappers & labels
whenever you're able
not so delish
but do go down best
beat up ballcaps are luscious
a medley: soft sweatbands, stiff brims
knit caps are nice, like salads on ice
crunchy straw hats to munch on a whim
but the bloody porterhouse sirloin?
best vintage wine & sweetest fruit?
rarest of rare? beyond all compare?
is smelly old
(…freshly worn)
boots
earthy like freshest mushrooms
& steaming moist
like a strudel
for texture - the soles
to spit - the eyeholes
laces like pasta noodles
for beverages
to wash it all down
dish water rinse
makes great desert
when flung from the pan
just hunt were it lands
& eat the soaked gravel & dirt
another fine bubbly is urine
nothing refreshes
like the best of pee
streaming trickles
& golden tinkles
worst case
lick it up off the tree
but!
one last caveat. do beware
(or wretch vomit & grope)
sick in the stomach?
& ache & hurt from it?
… do NOT drink dr.brenner’s soap
’… then Moses went up
from the plains of Moab, to Mount Nebo
the peak of Pisgah which faces Jericho
& the LORD showed Moses
all the land - Gilead, far as Dan
all Naphtali, land of Ephraim & Manasseh
all of Judah, far as the Western Sea
the Negeb & the valley of Jericho, City of Palms
- far as Zoar.
then the LORD said to him,
’This is that which I promised, on oath
to Abraham, Isaac & Jacob.
I have let you see it with your own eyes
but you shall not cross over.
So there, in the land of Moab
Moses, servant of the LORD, died
[Deuteronomy 34:1-5]
life is good for marmots, these days
& a new treat has hit the radar
hard to believe
even for these thieves
but some now chew on
… cars?!
they scuttle up, circle the tires
climb to the engine beneath
& once under the hood
sniff out what’s good
grab a bib
& kick off the feast
bitten belts & gnawed hoses
chomped oil & brake lines too
spark plugs & wires
craved & desired
they even drink washer fluid blue!
but from time to time, on occasion
too consumed eating, to escape
marmots hear the doors slam
& with no exit plan
just buckle in
for where the road takes
hundred of miles of freeway
asphalt fast whizzing below
what are they doing?
(probably chewing)
but onward & onward they go
the afterlife … & end
one marmot, famously
perched on inside
till the driver stopped
at an REI store
for a brief moment
he saw shop doors open
(then serpentine belts
choked him to gore;
alternator-crushed
jellied by pullies
he snapped belts
& cracked the pumps
his corpse was mangled
ground up & tangled
hair radiator baked
in singed clumps)
… but his eyes pried wide
inside, before he died
(neck snapped precise;
twice & viced thrice)
& before his last breath
& he was claimed by death
he caught a glimpse of
PARADISE
REI’s doors split
pearly-parting gates
& he saw deep & far
thru the store
doors flung open wide
with a whooshing glide
& inside
from ceiling to floor
shelf after shelf
displays & glass cases
all great tastes
of cuisine lore!
acres & acres
everything sacred
& here he was
on heaven’s shore!
so THIS
is where all good things
come from!
the source of all good
& all glory!
then he tried to reach
cross that hallowed breech …
but that is the end of the story
- end -