Four Poems
by Rebecca Loudon



francisella tularensis


packed them girls like rabbits in the auto-mobile side by side on top soot gray fur damp silky fur eight girls tumbled I stepped on the gas bucked heavy across theirselves pressed rabbit beaks against windows stuck out their tongues begged for tinned peaches peach juice everywhere into my mustaches down my sleeve slow down now wild babies wild baby cottontails blindweed on the edge of the road feet pounded the windows shoes stubby legs with great speed KING HENRY behind the wheel I had never before drove an engine the squealy rabbits smelled like cake lambskin gloves milkthistle cracked plums gave them cellophane bags of sweets bacon and hard bread pitched a fit they did my foot on the gas mute bells tied to their fur collars





Henry Darger’s Christmas Krampus

I was a goat on a cow day 
lungshot shivered
killed in the mouth 
Sing Sing Sing
December spiked pine needles
tinsel along my spine
frost and money the fast of it
I ate the liver onion plate
Soo-ee! Soo-ee! 
pig trotters in gauze and linen
and dotted Swiss
and pink eyes
followed the lit arrows on the hospital

I stared at my eyeballs in the bathroom mirror
the bathroom down the hall a ways
my eyes surgeried the glass I could kill
a pig with my eyes and I have
the way they said OLD
oil for creases
oil for Violet
pink as pig oil
flang on the lake and set fire to


how my fingernails are grown into horn
even my thumbs are horn
I clickety-clacked my hand 
for money and oil
he put the angel-gas on me
a sucker for fake snow coal and dying children




~Henry Darger


Men tended large animals women tended small animals I said I’ll have lamb set in aspic massaged the strings had a feel to it a wrong peeked through the Judas hole in my father’s shop men took horses to the knacker women sheared sheep the children went to Disneyland it was all they thought about Judy Garland with her sparkle breast in that tumble kingdom nothing like the girls in the books their prunellas applauded by princes and nobody did die but was punished if he spilled the cream one penny for each bucket where I skimmed the air froth into my mouth weather caused wildness I cut my hair it was a mess prayed night and morning except for the push broom neats-foot oil in the creases and the wrecked garden Daisy riding donkey tail under we stopped for food and paper and an animal rose up from where it had been stung not a moment too soon Daisy typed it and I danced my shin bones leather and volupte I had them in a row my treasured possessions swam I did in the drainage canal girls to my right boys to my left





where Lucky Lindbergh lived
fancy house a baby gone 
I read the paper 
HA HA’d same day the woman 
slanted right down through the sky into the river
I got in swam with her
them girls came and threw rocks
she said  SQUAT! real loud
a sound like phone books thunked on a stoop
I wanted a dog to walk me around the park
or in case someone busted in
what if I dropped my wallet at the movies
what if my house got stole 
some people get luckier than God’s Dog
some people get luckier than new shoelaces
murder mystery is a flightless bird stumbled
across the prairie that woman
she was an Angel slanted right down
into the river had a curved sword
and yellow hair my brain swiped clean
maybe Lucky Lindberg did it hisself on accident
that night I ate a can of sardines with a key
listened to Sinatra that boy could shoot
pretty good as good as any saint


Rebecca Loudon is the author of the poetry collections Radish King and Cadaver Dogs. She is currently stomping around inside Henry Darger's brain and writing poems about her adventures there. Her ongoing manuscript is titled Queer Wing-ed. Rebecca lives in Seattle where she is a professional musician and teaches violin lessons to children.