The Sight

By David Orr David Orr
My Uncle Fletcher,
Our county seer,

Bestowed his gifts
On my no-good cousin Jeff,

Who had a feeling
About nearly everything.

"That guy of hers . . ."
"Those fucking queers . . ."

He'd say, giving me the eye,
Which was the same eye

That could gaze upon
A yellow froth of newborns,

And know the cockerels
From the pullets.

Source: Poetry (December 2007).


This poem originally appeared in the December 2007 issue of Poetry magazine

December 2007
 David  Orr


David Orr writes the column “On Poetry” for the New York Times Book Review. He is the author of Beautiful & Pointless: A Guide to Modern Poetry (HarperCollins, 2011).

Continue reading this biography

Poem Categorization

SUBJECT Relationships, Family & Ancestors, Mythology & Folklore, Ghosts & the Supernatural

Report a problem with this poem

Your results will be limited to content that appeared in Poetry magazine.

Search Every Issue of Poetry

Originally appeared in Poetry magazine.

This poem has learning resources.

This poem is good for children.

This poem has related video.

This poem has related audio.