WEBVTT

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You mentioned earlier
to the students

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different writing exercises
and just different

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ways to get going.

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And one thing I enjoy doing
often in my writing classes,

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especially with undergraduates,
is write the poem

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from the exercise
along with them,

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and you never know
what's going to come up.

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And this was one
that happened maybe

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I don't know, a year,
a year and a half ago.

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This is called "The
Skeleton of the Lizard."

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"The skeleton of the lizard
that sits on my bookshelf

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has been with me
since I was a boy.

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When I touch its
fragile spine, it

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trembles in the air like a
feather about to blow away.

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A piece of paper weighs
more than this creature,

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its light existence
waiting for permission

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to crawl from my reach.

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Every now and then I take
it out of the matchbox

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where it has lived since I
killed it and dried the skin.

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I pull it out with tweezers as
if my instrument held someone's

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disbelief in the cold air.

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The tiny skull of the
lizard disintegrated

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as I grew up, until the headless
thing came at me one day,

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a breeze from an open
window sending it

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into the room, four
legs stretched out

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like an angel,
its brittle shadow

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letting me catch it in
my open palm in midair.

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I set it back on the
shelf so it could

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search for a book to hide in.

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Try to recall that day long
ago when I took its ribs

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and caged a sorrow no boy can
extract from a trapped reptile.

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The tailbone is
thin as the White

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hairs that grow in my face.

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Each time, I stare at the
skeleton and wait for it

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to finally go away."