As you know, I'm studying creative writing through Seattle Pacific University. A highlight of our residencies is a poetry contest, where we parody the poets and writer's we've been studying (and sometimes our program director). Last week, we studied the poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins, with an emphasis on "The Windhover."
Hopkins was always on the lookout for God, as was Annie Dillard (we studied "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek"), who perfected the art of stalking nature. Like those notable writers, I too have been on a quest (for the last 35 years) for the perfect pair of jeans. If I find them, I'll know God exists!
Here is my version of The Windhover--
The Skinned Cover
To Christian Dior
I sought this morning Macy’s markdowns king-
dom of day’s designer-discount denim, Jeans for this—hiding
Of the rolling bevel underneath slim, sturdy wear and striding
Sigh there. Eeh, ow, my rump upon the grain-glove a dimpling thing
Is this Ecstacy? Then off, off forth I swing
As Kate’s* heel sweeps smoothe on a show-end; I twirl and gliding
Rebuff the rear bend. My hind in hiding.
Word! It’s absurd,––the aggrieve of, the misery of the sling!
Brute booty and Valium and ack! No air, pride, doom, fear
BUCKLE! And the tire that quakes from me then a million
Times rolled, uglier, more strange than thus: dough, bagel, schmere.
No wonder of it: beer, fod, makes chow down spillion.
Mine the grand blue-jean tremblors. Ah, my rear,
Sprawl! Maul the shelves and dash, bold civilian.
*Super model Kate Moss