AND HERE WE HAVE SEVERAL BARNYARDS’ WORTH of chimeras*

By Taylor Telford

all of whom are flea-bitten & conflicted about their lineage.

Some have horns & French manicures.

Some only ever drunk dial their mothers & some

won’t eat meat that doesn’t resemble them.

Heaven doesn’t interest some of them; avoiding

the mirror is their religion. Some have

mouths with teeth, some without.

All of them wonder if their debts will stop

following them around.

Some think the suds stage of the drive-thru

car wash is a kind of anointment for the passengers

because how couldn’t it be, a transformation

witnessed from within?

Some of them are lonely for tails they’ve never seen.

Some can’t be kissed without their ribs flinching.

Some try to crochet the pain away.

Some lick their lips when they see the sun rise.

All of them want some of what’s inside of them out.

*This poem’s title comes from Merve Emre’s essay “How Leonora Carrington Feminized Surrealism” for The New Yorker (December 21, 2020).

Taylor Telford is a poet, reporter, Midwest transplant, and a born and bred Arsenal fan. She lives in Washington, D.C. with her partner (a mathematician) and their cat, Leonora (a seer).