Pescadero
Mark Doty
The little goats like my mouth and fingers,
and one stands up against the wire fence, and taps on
the fence board
a hoof made blacker by the dirt of the field,
pushes her mouth forward to my mouth,
so that I can see the smallish squared seeds of her teeth, and
the bristle-whiskers,
and then she kisses me, though I know it doesn’t mean “kiss,”
then leans her head way back, arcing her spine, goat yoga,
all pleasure and greeting and then good-natured indifference:
she loves me,
she likes me a lot, she takes interest in me, she doesn’t know me
at all
or need to, having thus acknowledged me. Though I am all happiness,
since I have been welcomed by the field’s small envoy, and
the splayed hoof,
fragrant with soil, has rested on the fence board beside my hand.
13 comments:
I love goats. What a lovely poem and so neat to see the photos, to know the background behind the poem.
Haha-when I saw the comments on Mark's page, I immediately thought of the photos you'd posted. Congrats to him. I'll check the mail when I get home!
terrific poem...terrific pictures.
now i feel like a need a goat.
Yay! My love used to have goats, and I loved their sweetness. Now she has donkeys, which have gigantic teeth and huge jaws -- them, I'd be scared to kiss.
The poem's a delight.
Well! Thanks for reminding me of what I'd rather be doing today. (Not that teaching secondary ed doesn't offer its own occasional moments of wildness and gratitude.) Beautiful poem, beautiful photographs.
Oh sweet animal love, best of all. This is a beautiful poem and the photos match it perfectly, especially the one in which bearded man meets goat.
Love "goat yoga" and the kiss! It would be interesting to compare this to Wright--thanks for it!
Besides my father, you & Mark are the only people I know who have been to Pescadero. Somehow it makes perfect sense that this should be so.
Thanks, Valerie. And there they were, out of nowhere. I have a feeling that they're highly regarded goats. Mark's already gotten some letters from people who might know these goats.
& thanks, Jayme. What do you think of the cover? I love it. Especially the bulldog in his earflap hat.
Thanks, Nancy. I'll forward your words on to Mark.
Yay, Susan. I haven't spent much time with donkeys. Why should that be? But they do seem harder to taking a liking to than the expressive, very curious goat.
You're welcome, Laura. I wish you had a goat by you right now. I wish I had a goat by me.
Yes, sweet animal love. Thank you, Elisabeth.
Thanks, Joelle. And yes one of many Wright nods in Mark's work.
Hi Sophie, Thanks. I ended up taking Mark to Pescadero after I'd been there myself back in 1992 when I was a fellow at the Djerassi Foundation in Woodside. I bought a T-shirt at Duarte's Tavern--featuring a steaming green plate of food with "Pescadero, California" beneath the name of the place. I wore that T-shirt for years, and it became sort of legendary between us. Last year, after Mark wrote the poem, I gave the shirt to him. Luckily it's made of nondestructible fiber.
paul-didn't one of you have an earflap hat somewhat like the one on the new yorker cover? i particularly love the basset hound w/ socks on his ears.
There are many earflap hats in this household--I'm not sure I can even count my own! (I must take a look at that basset hound again.)
Oh my goodness, Paul. I love this poem, and I might love it more now that I've seen the corresponding photos! Thank you for posting, and I hope you and Mark are well!
Thank you, Sondra! I'll pass your words on to Mark. I hope you're well, too!
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