Poetry — January 20, 2016 12:05 — 1 Comment

Golem the Famulus – Jenny Mary Brown

The new foal is late.
Our mare’s at 357 days.
Each day my dad checks
her udders for waxing
to find them dry.
When she is ready,
she’ll rub her nose all over
his beard, refuse her oats,
and stare into the abyss.
She’ll lose her early-labor
jitters eventually, settling down.
She doesn’t need help.
If I could, though, I’d sort
some Georgia clay, measure
each lump, each grain
to transmute into cells,
and risk my life in evocation.
I’d chant names until
the right one, the name of god,
comes. I’d bring the Golem
north to serve only her,
his midwifery unmatched.
And after she gives birth,
I’d return the Golem to burial,
spreading his dried clumps
under the foal like straw.


Jenny Mary Brown’s work has either been featured or is forthcoming in Tipton Poetry Journal, Berkeley Poetry Review, and Sugar House, among others. She is also poetry editor at The Mondegreen. She lives in Arcata, CA, where she reads comics, plays the piano, and teaches at Humboldt State University.

One Comment

  1. Jon Brown says:

    My favorite Poem and Poet!

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What am I?

Bioluminescent eye
That sees by the shine
Of its own light. Lies

Blind me. I am the seventh human sense
And my stepchild,

Scientists can't find me.

Januswise I make us men;
Was my image then—

Remind me:

The awful fall up off all fours
From the forest
To the hours…

Tick, Tock: Divine me.

-- Richard Kenney