The Pheasant’s Scratched Face

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

The pheasant scratches

At its beautiful male face

With its spurs, spurs, spurs.

~ Kikaku [Englished by Phillip Whidden

A writer says the pheasant scratches at

His lovely face.  Hello!  That face is not

A thing of beauty.  Here’s a caveat:

An author really, really, really ought

To stick to truth.  The poet is advised

To use the decencies of fact.  That head

Upon that bird when strictly analyzed

Is ugly.  Glaring eyepatch claw-like red

To wound our vision vaunts a scarlet blotch.

That face is scowl, a Christless, shocking scowl,

A challenge for a tasteful eye to watch.

That beak looks harsh as any ruthless owl.

  The evolutionary reptile claw

    That scratches fits in well, is not a flaw.