Polar Bear (after ‘Cow’ by Selima Hill)

February 8, 2011

I want to be a bear:

a dense white house of a polar bear –
hunkered down on an icy lake,
with my back
like a carpet coated snowed on roof
and my head
like a
massive furry
winnebago.

I want to think of fish
and seals
and where to find
the thinnest panes of ice.

I want to think of sun
and snow
and possibly
The Northern Lights.

I want to be a bear
that does not think
of face cream

or eye gel
or serum
or self adhesive
tightening face strips

that does not think
about the severn signs
of cosmetic ageing

A polar bear
with a large black nose
like a bowl of tar
and no difficulty
with enlarged paws

A polar bear
with a black rubber skin
white hair
yellow teeth –
and a weight problem
that is not
a weight problem:

heavier than a four by four and
capable of crushing cars.
I want to weigh 1000 pounds
and be eleven feet tall
I want my fur to stink
of blood and sweat
and musk and the north
and for it to be thick
and long and coarse
and for Immac –
to be irrelevant.
I want Kiera Knightley
for elevenses
because she wouldn’t make
a decent lunch
massive jowls
teeth that crunch
inky eyes
furry tongue
and a thick layer
of subcutaneous blubber

I want to be a bear.
A great white van, of a polar bear.
A ginormous house, of a polar bear.
A massive boat, of a polar bear.
I don’t want to buy face cream.
I want to have webbed feet.

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