One Thousand Things Worth Knowing

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Authors: Paul Muldoon
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CUTHBERT AND THE OTTERS
    Â Â Â Â  In memory of Seamus Heaney
    Notwithstanding the fact that one of them has gnawed a strip of flesh
    from the shoulder of the salmon,
    relieving it of a little darne,
    the fish these six otters would fain
    carry over the sandstone limen
    and into Cuthbert’s cell, a fish garlanded with bay leaves
    and laid out on a linden flitch
    like a hauberked warrior laid out on his shield,
    may yet be thought of as whole.
    An entire fish for an abbot’s supper.
    It’s true they’ve yet to develop the turnip clamp
    and the sword with a weighted pommel
    but the Danes are already dyeing everything beige.
    In anticipation, perhaps, of the carpet and mustard factories
    built on ground first broken by the Brigantes.
    The Benedictines still love a bit of banter
    along with the Beatitudes. Blessed is the trundle bed,
    it readies us for the tunnel
    from Spital Tongues to the staithes. I’m at once full of dread
    and in complete denial.
    I cannot thole the thought of Seamus Heaney dead.
    In the way that 9 and 3 are a perfect match
    an Irish war band has 27 members.
    In Barrow-in-Furness a shipyard man scans a wall for a striking wrench
    as a child might mooch
    for blackberries in a ditch. In times to come the hydrangea
    will mark most edges of empire.
    For the moment I’m hemmed in every bit as much
    by sorrow as by the crush of cattle
    along the back roads from Durham to Desertmartin.
    Diseart meaning “a hermitage.”
    In Ballynahone Bog they’re piling still more turf in a cart.
    It seems one manifestation of the midge
    may have no mouthparts.
    Heartsore yet oddly heartened,
    I’ve watched these six otters make their regal
    progress across the threshold. I see how they might balk
    at their burden. A striped sail
    will often take years to make. They wear wolf or bear pelts,
    the berserkers. Like the Oracle
    at Delphi, whose three-legged stool
    straddles a fiery trough
    amid the still-fuming heaps of slag,
    they’re almost certainly on drugs. Perhaps a Viking sail handler,
    himself threatened with being overwhelmed,
    will have gone out on a limb and invented a wind tiller
    by lashing a vane to the helm?
    That a longship has been overturned on the moor
    is as much as we may surmise
    of a beehive cell thrown up along the Tyne.
    The wax moth lives in a beehive proper. It can detect sound
    frequencies up to 300 kHz. The horse in the stable
    may be trained to follow a scent.
    What looks like a growth of stubble
    has to do with the chin drying out. I straighten my
    black tie as the pallbearer
    who almost certainly filched
    that strip of skin draws level with me. Did I say “calamine”?
    I meant “chamomile.” For the tearoom nearest to Grizedale Tarn
    it’s best to follow the peat stain
    of Grizedale Beck. A prototype of backgammon
    was played by the Danes. Even Mozart would resort to a recitative
    for moving things along. Halfway through what’s dissolved into the village
    of Bellaghy, this otter steps out from under the bier
    and offers me his spot. It seems even an otter may subordinate
    himself whilst being first in line to revolt.
    He may be at once complete insider and odd man out.
    Columbanus is said to have tamed a bear
    and harnessed it to a plow. Bach. The sarabande.
    Under the floor of Cuthbert’s cell they’ve buried the skull of a colt
    born with a curvature of the spine.
    Even now we throw down a challenge like a keel
    whilst refraining from eating peach pits for fear of cyanide.
    Refrain as in frenum , “a bridle.”
    We notice how a hook on the hind wing of a moth
    connects it to an eye on the forewing. A complex joint
    if ever there was one. According to our tanners,
    the preservation of hides involves throwing caution
    to the wind. Their work permits
    allowed Vikings to sack Armagh in 832. The orange
    twine helps us keep things straight. I once sustained concussion,
    having been hit by a boom in Greenwich,
    and saw

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