Dragons and Unicorns

 Companion poems (mine and a friend's) written and published years ago, and duplicated here in order to show them to someone who hasn't seen them before.

 

I was living in rented premises and wasn’t allowed to have animals there. I complained to my friend Janet about the lack of pets. “Why don’t you have psychic pets?” she said. “Brilliant,” I thought. She decided to have some too. Some time later, there ensued the following correspondence.

 

 

 

DEAR Janet,

How are the unicorns?

 

I haven’t patted I haven't patted or said hullo to

the dragons for such a long time.

I forget them, like plants unwatered.

I hope they feed themselves

and don’t depend on spasmodic rains

or the crumbs we leave for birds.

 

I wonder what they do up there all day.

Are they bored? If it was me.

I’d copulate constantly — but dragons,

I think, have a different kind of season.

 

I see they have moved

to a low, convenient cloud. The roof

was awkwardly shaped, uncomfortable.

They swathe their massive tails

They s                   in coils around each other.

They look bored but cosy;

 lazy and cosy, curling up for warmth.

 

The blue one is Agyar, known as Betsy.

The red is male. His name is Aragon.

They are faithful dragons to me

 and dutiful. I must treat them better.

 

Janet, how are your unicorns?

 

 

© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 1993

First published in Feet First: poems by the Aardvarkers

Also in Secret Leopard: new and selected poems 1974-2005 (Paris, Alyscamps Press, 2005)

 

8/4/93

DEAR ROSEMARY

 

The unicorns

look silly in the laundry beside the washing machine

Nathan is combing Jennifer’s tail with his teeth

I woke up at 3 o’clock last night

because someone was nuzzling my cheek

They love music

Nathan’s a Beatles freak

Jennifer prefers Debussy

They don’t look bored

I don’t think unicorns do that

and they’ve got the cat to talk to

I asked them what they think about

they said ‘LOVE’   and the space beyond the black stump

There’s a black stump where they come from too

They look cramped in the laundry

Perhaps I’ll take my psychic paint-brush and

create for them a daisy-covered meadow

and in the lounge-room a pond

 

It’s wonderful living with unicorns

 

 

 

© Janet Gregory 1993

First published in Feet First: poems by the Aardvarkers

Also in Secret Leopard: new and selected poems 1974-2005 (Paris, Alyscamps Press, 2005)