PEARL PIRIE: A POEM
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IF ONLY IT WORKED FOR NATIONAL POLICIES
weeding, my hands come up
smelling of spearmint
its rhizomes go-go-gadgets
its spaghetti through the soil.
my mint shampoo
hints incognito/continuity.
something lands oddly.
I pat my head, stroke
the back of a bumblebee.
we each freeze, realize
the mistake in progress. each
takes the necessary actions
of distance. correct courses
dissolve into non-incident.
Pearl Pirie’s most recent collection is the pet radish, shrunken (BookThug). She lives in Ottawa.