{"id":1422,"date":"2014-02-10T01:03:48","date_gmt":"2014-02-10T01:03:48","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/?page_id=1422"},"modified":"2026-05-28T21:03:10","modified_gmt":"2026-05-28T21:03:10","slug":"john-slater","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/writings\/poetry\/john-slater\/","title":{"rendered":"Writings \/ Poetry: John Slater"},"content":{"rendered":"<h2>Hatched<\/h2>\n<p>When they cut the wen<br \/>\noff your forehead<br \/>\nwe cracked birds\u2019 egg<br \/>\nthen lobotomy jokes<br \/>\nover the loops of blue<br \/>\nthread stitched into a<br \/>\ngruesome purple scar.<br \/>\n&nbsp;<br \/>\nOn the car-ride home<br \/>\nwe stopped for<br \/>\nbowls of cappuccino.<br \/>\nIn a snug niche by the<br \/>\nwindow: snowfall,<br \/>\nsmall-talk. We might<br \/>\nhave another day<br \/>\nlike this one<br \/>\nbut who knew when?<\/p>\n<p><!--nextpage--><\/p>\n<h2>A Grave Responsibility<\/h2>\n<p>To guide<br \/>\nyour pinewood casket<br \/>\ninto the neat<br \/>\nrectangular slot<br \/>\ncarved in the wet clay<\/p>\n<p>Like fishermen<br \/>\nletting their<br \/>\nnets down<br \/>\nor the friends<br \/>\nof the paralytic in<br \/>\nLuke who<br \/>\nyanked off roof-<br \/>\ntiles, 6 of us<\/p>\n<p>with straps<br \/>\nlooped through<br \/>\ncasket handles<br \/>\nlowered you<br \/>\ninto the ground.<\/p>\n<p>When the crowd<br \/>\nwent in out of<br \/>\nwinter rain<br \/>\nI dropped down<br \/>\ninto the grave<br \/>\ncrouched<br \/>\non top of the casket<\/p>\n<p>and rolled up<br \/>\nthe slack straps.<br \/>\nLike you, perhaps<br \/>\nglad to be<br \/>\nout of the wind.<\/p>\n<p><!--nextpage--><\/p>\n<h2>Global Warming<\/h2>\n<p>Full moon thaw<br \/>\nAll night trickle of<br \/>\nrun-off on gravel.<br \/>\nPiles of wet snow<br \/>\ndissolve into standing<br \/>\npools in low-spots<br \/>\non the field. Locked<\/p>\n<p>in rogue programs<br \/>\nof a sad past<br \/>\nwe put our heads down<br \/>\nplough into anyone<br \/>\nwe come across.<br \/>\nOr wheedle and manipulate.<\/p>\n<p>Islands of yellow grass<br \/>\npoke up through the<br \/>\npocked snow. Each year<br \/>\nwhat seemed to be<br \/>\npermafrost softens.<\/p>\n<p>*<\/p>\n<p>Snowmelt: cold<br \/>\nhollows potholes in<br \/>\nsalty asphalt<br \/>\nstreaks of white on<br \/>\ngrey black lanes<\/p>\n<p>graded toward the<br \/>\ngravel shoulder<br \/>\ncracked seam down<br \/>\ncenter stitched<br \/>\nby faded gold broken<br \/>\nline.<\/p>\n<p>Just as well you<br \/>\ndon\u2019t write I<br \/>\nguess. Less<br \/>\nfriction on the<br \/>\nblister. The pond<br \/>\nmelts first<br \/>\nat the inflow.<\/p>\n<h2>Pearl<\/h2>\n<p>Mantle covers<br \/>\nirritant with<br \/>\nlayers of the same<br \/>\nnacre used to<br \/>\ncreate the shell<br \/>\nsome foreign object<br \/>\na grain of sand<br \/>\nlike a seed or<br \/>\nsplinter that provokes<br \/>\nthe protective case<br \/>\nthat becomes the<br \/>\npearl.<\/p>\n<p>Cowed, abject<br \/>\nwith cell stripped<br \/>\nbare\u2014 no bed, 2<br \/>\nfloor mats, a desk<br \/>\n3 books and a<br \/>\nchair\u2014off the main<br \/>\nhall the door<br \/>\nleft open to<br \/>\ndisplay his<br \/>\nsimplicity. And yet<br \/>\nafter 50 years of<br \/>\nloss, 30 as a monk<br \/>\nwith the refinement of<br \/>\nlasting grief: clamped<br \/>\nin the delicate<br \/>\nshell: solid<br \/>\npearl.<\/p>\n<p><!--nextpage--><\/p>\n<h2>Trawling <\/h2>\n<p>Beyond the coop<br \/>\nsleek half-beached alligators<br \/>\nbask in a humid swamp where<br \/>\nlight dredges water like a rake<\/p>\n<p>Not patience\u2014a wide idleness<br \/>\na languor that allows all<br \/>\nentanglements to fall, slack<br \/>\nfish-net to the boat floor<\/p>\n<p>a palm closing over them, a calm<br \/>\nheadiness, shoulder-high<br \/>\ncorn in the morning breeze.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Hatched When they cut the wen off your forehead we cracked birds\u2019 egg then lobotomy jokes over the loops of blue thread stitched into a gruesome purple scar. &nbsp; On the car-ride home we stopped for bowls of cappuccino. In a snug niche by the window: snowfall, small-talk. We might [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":2289,"parent":229,"menu_order":7,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-1422","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1422","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1422"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1422\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2234,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1422\/revisions\/2234"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/229"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2289"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1422"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}