TWO POEMS – Ricky Garni


Image: ‘St James’ (acrylic on canvas) by the artist Pigcasso, who was saved from the slaughterhouse as a piglet and has taken up painting to international acclaim.

Ricky Garni grew up in Florida and Maine, was educated at Exeter and Duke, and has lived off and on in the Triangle since 1977. Over the years he has worked as a teacher, wine merchant, studio musician, composer and graphic designer. He began writing poetry in 1978, and has produced over forty volumes of prose and poetry since 1995. He has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize on seven occasions. 


It’s in the room. It’s in the living room. Now it’s in the rec room, and before long, the atrium. After a leisurely stroll through the study, the elephant meanders through the conservatory and makes his way down the winding staircase to the wine cellar, but he loses his footing and tumbles down the stairs! Luckily, the landing is covered in soft, supine elephants. Are they sleeping? He wonders. All elephants wonder: are you sleeping? are you sleeping? How can you, for I am in the room, wonders the elephant, fully horizontal and barely noticed, despite the fact that elephants seldom are either.



What are they doing?

Don’t shoot them.
Let them kiss.

Now they have stopped.
Put down my gun, I say.
And let them run away

satisfied in the heart, the art
of running.




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