Friday, May 19, 2006

"Pedigree" by Nick Laird

Click here to read Nick Laird's poem, "Pedigree."

A few of my favorite lines:
A scuffle over rustling sheep
became a stabbing in a bar outside Armagh,
and a murderer swings
from a branch high up in our family tree.

Which isn't a willow.

Then, further down:

I may be out on a limb.


--Marshal Zeringue