Poetry
FALL 2022
black bear story
by MARA ADAMITZ SCRUPE
tell me again the story of the rug over your woolly
wobbling head
in pink thrush sprawl the dawn say the name
for anxious/ near poisoned: Swamp Bay
tell the subtle twitch of nasal passages/ snout’s nervous
quiver say again everything you know
of drafting—an architect’s devising of desire—repeat
to me the seven bourgeois sins
played out in the lair
that kept us cool in summer the cryptoporticus
that housed our bestial republic brute
as chattel shook-up & splayed
on a hot afternoon explain to me cane-
trained a rose espalier flattened
& sprawling or bent
& pegged in clouds too damp for crowning
following behind me find you
you tricky ursine mascot bastard slinging your skull side-
to-side in fresh freckled stroke in after
-sun’s onslaught or strawberry stigmata/ our blinds drawn
against the light—how good it feels to feel
every cut cut
clean our pelts shining
at easternmost edge of day’s arrival/ sole
survivors mark the downpour’s
drubbing/ safe post-tornado past the hurricane
past pledge or diction distributed on a breeze as venin
ferine in terra incognita as a tree mid
-forest feels neither gust nor gale protected
from within its circle/ among its own kind/ its torso
perfectly cylindrical/ dermis smooth unscarred
as those without/ at perimeter’s edge—blast-bent sentries
& misshapen palisades—shield the tenderer tribe
tutor me in ursine ken on keen olfaction on huge
omnivorous appetites
or ravenousness past the accident
that did its damnedest the antidote to dialogic
indifference/ in consolation—you never knew me
did you/ my coyote cravings—you shaggy bruin
my old antagonist on hind legs my alluring almost vocal
amanuensis/ tell me again the sin
of sadness/ venial tristitia/ make me laugh win me over
wear that lovey-dovey blanket bare your nose
your mouth/ clenched teeth/ absent shelter
beastly & obliging coax & grace your thick hairy
body that enticing reservoir that hirsute
sweetness commonplace as prey altricial
as newborns & either one or both of us the predator/ frisky
as cubs holed up horsing around under bear
moon’s earthen coverlet cloistered & coupled a coital
ensemble/ bared exposed snug in hibernation’s ripe
consummate as kindling/ sparked
in deep green slippery
our heads hooded soon enough for sleep
Mara Adamitz Scrupe
Mara Adamitz Scrupe is a writer, visual artist, and documentary filmmaker. She has authored six prizewinning poetry collections and received numerous creative grants and fellowships. Her poetry and essays have been published worldwide in literary journals and arts periodicals, and her environmental installations, sculptures, and artist books are held in the collections of international museums and sculpture parks. She serves concurrently as Lance Williams Resident Artist in the Arts & Sciences, University of Kansas Lawrence, and Dean and Professor Emerita, University of the Arts, Philadelphia. Mara lives with her husband on their farm bordering the James River in the Blue Ridge Mountains countryside of Virginia. Find her on Twitter @MScrupe, on Instagram @MaraScrupe, and on Facebook at Mara Adamitz Scrupe.