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Max That wasn't a bat burial-where were the words the burial rites the ceremonial little grave pointing bat west into the sunset and the little cross -or nicely carved stone? Shame on you P Or a bat pie?? -----Original Message----- From: Poetryetc provides a venue for a dialogue relating to poetry and poetics [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On Behalf Of Max Richards Sent: 06 December 2006 00:09 To: [log in to unmask] Subject: snap: bat burial Bat Burial The black and brown bundle on the front lawn shaped itself to a small wrecked umbrella with a rat-head handle and a trailing pair of crooked claws. Perhaps the power lines overhead had killed it. My neighbour called his boys from indoors. With their Dracula imagery they were momentarily impressed. 'You can see how they hang upside down', he told them. 'We know that, Dad.' A click of one's phone camera, and they were off. George and I poked the corpse, noted the ants beginning work, black ooze on the grass. Neither of us fancied picking it up. It could just go on lying there. But at nightfall, its smell upset my wife. She let me off digging a hole for it. But which of the three wheelie-bins provided by our municipality should it go in? 'Recyclables', no; 'garden'? not exactly; 'garbage', then. Gingerly, I bag it in plastic, tie firmly the bag top, lower it in, black plastic its sarcophagus, our garage its mausoleum. This morning it smells of death. Wednesday 6 December 2006 Max Richards ------------------------------------------------------------ This email was sent from Netspace Webmail: http://www.netspace.net.au ----- End forwarded message ----- ------------------------------------------------------------ This email was sent from Netspace Webmail: http://www.netspace.net.au ----- End forwarded message ----- ------------------------------------------------------------ This email was sent from Netspace Webmail: http://www.netspace.net.au