#7

The Beast

When I ask her what it sounds like
she says it grunts, drools,

it's hunched over and grinning.
When I ask her who it is, shes says it's her.

When I look her in the eye and ask, is it talking
to me now? Is it the beast talking when you talk?

She thinks for a minute, and says, no, it's curled up.
She's talking, but it's watching her.

Later that night, I make love for hours.
I forget my name, where my arms are, what

my tongue is doing. I think I must have cried out
unimaginable things and I think of my sister

in the next room, laying on her back, blinking in the dark.
The next morning, we make coffee and talk about the beast again.

My sister is rinsing out her cup when she turns
and says, slowly, it's male you know.

She looks surprised.

~Marie Howe

After our discussion in class, I went back through Howe's poems and found that my new favorite is indeed this one. I like the imagery used. You can see the beast hanging over the both of them. I also like the tone of this piece. You can feel the mystery and almost fear that the beast holds over these sisters. Although there were many good poems in The Good Thief, this one stands out the most to me.