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Animal Prayers: Perry Blue

Animal Prayers: Perry Blue 10.1 Affilia 177/0886109903254583 Fall 2003 Poetry Poem POETRY Jacqueline K. Parker You are a sensate being, my darling Perry Blue. Frank’s “Putis” Ev’s “Twinkle Toes” Jackie’s “Little Guy.” You came to Bellfield in your mother ’s womb birthed under the comfy skirted chair in the TV room on whose ottoman you’d sleep & listen, ears scanning the environment like satellite dishes, while we talked & cuddled & snacked & laughed. You, smart “little one,” trained us— some cunning from your Himalayan forest wiring— to play “unravel & toss string” tied to oven door. You’d settle in the kitchen and stare in front of the door: Jackie would come over to “play.” Two minutes was all you’d need. Then to your “stars”—tail at the vertical, as if smiling in some catlike way—to crunch on the dried food, chemically treated to keep the kidney stones from forming. Darling “Blue,” you roused Ev from her Angel’s Room, God’s Holy Dove above her bed, outside her door at 6 A.M., meowing tentatively, if the door didn’t open for the bathroom rush. You’d follow her downstairs to the beam of sun in the bay, as she read her morning devotions, the lectio divina of http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Affilia: Journal of Women and Social Work SAGE

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Publisher
SAGE
Copyright
Copyright © by SAGE Publications
ISSN
0886-1099
eISSN
1552-3020
DOI
10.1177/0886109903254583
Publisher site
See Article on Publisher Site

Abstract

10.1 Affilia 177/0886109903254583 Fall 2003 Poetry Poem POETRY Jacqueline K. Parker You are a sensate being, my darling Perry Blue. Frank’s “Putis” Ev’s “Twinkle Toes” Jackie’s “Little Guy.” You came to Bellfield in your mother ’s womb birthed under the comfy skirted chair in the TV room on whose ottoman you’d sleep & listen, ears scanning the environment like satellite dishes, while we talked & cuddled & snacked & laughed. You, smart “little one,” trained us— some cunning from your Himalayan forest wiring— to play “unravel & toss string” tied to oven door. You’d settle in the kitchen and stare in front of the door: Jackie would come over to “play.” Two minutes was all you’d need. Then to your “stars”—tail at the vertical, as if smiling in some catlike way—to crunch on the dried food, chemically treated to keep the kidney stones from forming. Darling “Blue,” you roused Ev from her Angel’s Room, God’s Holy Dove above her bed, outside her door at 6 A.M., meowing tentatively, if the door didn’t open for the bathroom rush. You’d follow her downstairs to the beam of sun in the bay, as she read her morning devotions, the lectio divina of

Journal

Affilia: Journal of Women and Social WorkSAGE

Published: Aug 1, 2003

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