stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 20692
    [post_author] => 23
    [post_date] => 2020-03-04 15:43:40
    [post_date_gmt] => 2020-03-04 15:43:40
    [post_content] => Don’t mistake this for seduction. When I make bedroom eyes
at the mirror, I am only trying to see
what the hare’s pupil looks like,
widening like the handspan
of the universe, only one
arterial spray away
from the wolf’s
blushing
jaws.

I intend to prepare myself for violence.

Originally, I wanted to discover a strategy
such that prey use, like playing dead, or
keeping close to home. But after extensive research,
and squirming rats emblazoned across my eyelids,
I concluded that there is no surefire way
to not be a victim- that if God was playing dice,
nobody knew enough of the rules to play with him.

Thus, I went out to the bay and tried to see the orcas.
On the grey salt spray of the West Coast, they are
my cousins. Cruel as they are,
I hoped they would teach me
how to leap like a drawn bow out of water.
Or, at the very least, how to keep my eyes
open.
    [post_title] => Predatory
    [post_excerpt] => 
    [post_status] => publish
    [comment_status] => closed
    [ping_status] => closed
    [post_password] => 
    [post_name] => predatory
    [to_ping] => 
    [pinged] => 
    [post_modified] => 2020-07-31 11:32:58
    [post_modified_gmt] => 2020-07-31 11:32:58
    [post_content_filtered] => 
    [post_parent] => 0
    [guid] => http://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=20692
    [menu_order] => 0
    [post_type] => poems
    [post_mime_type] => 
    [comment_count] => 0
    [filter] => raw
    [meta_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [wpcf-published-in] => 
            [wpcf-date-published] => 2020
            [wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is the second-prize winner of the first Bloodaxe Archive challenge on Young Poets Network, The Poetics of the Archive. This was part of a series of writing challenges asking young poets worldwide to respond to the digital Bloodaxe Archive.

Jewel comments on how she used the Bloodaxe Archive to write this poem: "This poem was created with the "Words" section of the archive. I clicked through words that I found interesting, and looked at what was associated with specific words. Eventually, I ended up at the word "bedroom", and the first books that I saw in the map of connections were all animal themed."
            [wpcf-rights-information] => 
            [wpcf-poem-award] => 2nd prize, Bloodaxe Archive challenge #1
            [wpcf_pr_belongs] => 
        )

    [poet_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [ID] => 20537
            [forename] => 
            [surname] => 
            [title] => Jewel Cao
            [slug] => jewel-cao
            [content] => Jewel is a winner in the Climate Crisis and You challenge on Young Poets Network, in partnership with the Freud Museum London. Jewel is also the second-prize winner in the first Bloodaxe Archive challenge, The Poetics of the Archive; and in the August challenge #3 on meta-poetry, written and judged by Foyle Young Poet Danique Bailey in 2019. She is commended in the Artlyst Art to Poetry challenge.
        )

)
stdClass Object
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    [ID] => 20537
    [forename] => 
    [surname] => 
    [title] => Jewel Cao
    [slug] => jewel-cao
    [content] => Jewel is a winner in the Climate Crisis and You challenge on Young Poets Network, in partnership with the Freud Museum London. Jewel is also the second-prize winner in the first Bloodaxe Archive challenge, The Poetics of the Archive; and in the August challenge #3 on meta-poetry, written and judged by Foyle Young Poet Danique Bailey in 2019. She is commended in the Artlyst Art to Poetry challenge.
)

Predatory

Jewel Cao

Don’t mistake this for seduction. When I make bedroom eyes
at the mirror, I am only trying to see
what the hare’s pupil looks like,
widening like the handspan
of the universe, only one
arterial spray away
from the wolf’s
blushing
jaws.

I intend to prepare myself for violence.

Originally, I wanted to discover a strategy
such that prey use, like playing dead, or
keeping close to home. But after extensive research,
and squirming rats emblazoned across my eyelids,
I concluded that there is no surefire way
to not be a victim- that if God was playing dice,
nobody knew enough of the rules to play with him.

Thus, I went out to the bay and tried to see the orcas.
On the grey salt spray of the West Coast, they are
my cousins. Cruel as they are,
I hoped they would teach me
how to leap like a drawn bow out of water.
Or, at the very least, how to keep my eyes
open.