By Charles Simic b. 1938 Charles Simic
This strange thing must have crept   
Right out of hell.
It resembles a bird’s foot
Worn around the cannibal’s neck.

As you hold it in your hand,
As you stab with it into a piece of meat,
It is possible to imagine the rest of the bird:   
Its head which like your fist
Is large, bald, beakless, and blind.

Charles Simic, “Fork” from Charles Simic: Selected Early Poems. Copyright © 1999 by Charles Simic. Reprinted with the permission of George Braziller, Inc.

Source: Charles Simic: Selected Early Poems (George Braziller Inc., 1999)


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Poet Charles Simic b. 1938

POET’S REGION U.S., New England

Subjects Eating & Drinking, Activities

Poetic Terms Free Verse