Matt Rader. Living Things. Gibsons, British Columbia: Nightwood Editions, 2008.
1Toothless on Walker's wall, the chainsaw
2strung up like any dead animal to bleed out
3into a tin a slow viscous drip of black stout.
4Walker's workshop was nature's scofflaw,
5a backdoor parts-exchange and trophy case
6for the age of motorized blades. Saw chains
7sagged but held their place in the equation
8upon the wall, zeroes like paralyzed faces.
9Rosaries of pitch and gauge, Walker prayed
10each link with file and rag. When he spoke
11the room deepened. Shade bred with shade,
12charmed the starter chord, primed the choke.
13The motor stuttered and in its stutter talked.
14The chain whirled like the hands of a clock.
RPO poem Editors
Poem used with permission of the author.