| POETRY: Mary Dalton
by Marnie Parsons |
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Mary Dalton lives and works in St. John's. She is originally from Lake View, Harbour Main, NL. The selections included here are from a series of poems exploring the music of Newfoundland speech. They can be found in Dalton's chapbook Merrybegot (Running the Goat, 2002), and will appear in her book of the same name, due out this fall from Signal-Véhicule Press. The book will be launched October 4th at the LSPU Hall. Spry Eighty-four and spry as a goat. He set eight drills of potatoes the spring- His son just got on the construction, And he was looking to get on, too. Yes, he's sharp as a tack and He's a good hand to sing, Knows a hundred songs, Get him going, out they'll Tumble-you'll hear him rattling, Working one up, leaning Into the song, all six foot of him, His head full of tunes, Feet tapping, His eyes capering after the women. - Mary Dalton Fairy-Struck Tea-leaves and the old woman's warning: Beware the man with gimlet eyes- He'll sing for you a deadly tune. The day I got the scar The wind faffering on the water Died into a mauzy blue calm. We were out in the Lancers- He swung me and spun me- The fiddle a banshee- One shoe slid down the shiny hall floor- The tall world of his torn stories And me fairy-struck: Saw the knife in his eyes then Spinning up out of his face, Thin-winged, like A devil's angel On the hunt for blood. - Mary Dalton (back to table of contents) |