Category Archives: Louise Carson

Fipple

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Fipple                            

by  Louise Carson

 

     ‘the sounding edge of a side opening’ – Webster’s

Sounds like a word old as creation:

Adam’s pain: his rib-mouth constricted, plugged.

Eve’s voice pops the cork: champagne for everyone.

On Iceland, where only the land is indigenous,

magna thrusting, they have a word for a horse’s lip:

flipi, related to fipple, as Iceland relates to England and Norway.

So this northland pony, little fjord horse,

opens his mouth to the side, blows air over that plug, his tongue,

plays his penny whistle, his fipple of unknown origin.

 

photo by:

Rebecca Rajchgot: Iceland Ponies, 2014

Wedge

Wedge

Louise Carson

 

Wedge. A great word

      caught in my beak.

          Wedge heel. Can’t be

              caught in the grate.

                  Wedge the budgie

                      yellow

                  in his cage.

              A wedge of geese

          honk no surrender in a

      Wedgewood sky. The manuscript

wedged under my door keeps it open.