Tuesday Poem


A visual delight,
the killer whale.
Two-tone black and white
from snout to tale.
Worth hunting deep at sea.

And when we’ve captured two or three
we pen them in a little jail
and teach them tricks
to do for fishy snacks
for paying multitudes who fill

the stands and scream to see
these mammals leap in synchrony,
who cruise a hundred miles a day
when free
beneath the bounding main.

Occasionally from the strain
they turn upon the rubber-suited crew
who labor so to train
them to cavort on cue,
and even maim a few.

pidity, said
Immanuel Kant,
is caused by a wicked
heart, Repent.

by Maxine Kumin
from Nurture
Viking Books, 1989