1 minute read
The Marten on the Gutpile
from Lost Lake Folk Opera n7 Special Illiberal Democracy issue Summer 2022
by Lost Lake Folk Opera magazine, a Shipwreckt Books imprint
T h e M a r t e n o n t h e G u t p i l e
The ravens war and scatter into the timber, but the marten stands his ground, perched on the cow’s stomach.
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Whiskers glossed with tallow. Orange throat smudged with blood.
He retreats to a spruce limb when we start skinning, snarls at the camprobbers who appear in the absence of ravens.
They eat flakes of ribfat while we bone the carcass on the peeled hide.
I toss a slice of liver to the marten. He caches it under a lodgepole windfall and climbs back to his post growling deep in his scrawny chest.
When we’re finished he watches us squirm into our packs and line out for the trail.
Before we’re out of sight he’s nosing through the intestines haloed by jays.
Wise River November 2007
