Greg McLaren: Robert Adamson in The Valley of Gwangi


There are terrible reptiles we never quite catch
with our puny lassoes
We leave camp in the morning disguised as animals –
Eohippus the dawn horse, or the bird-mimic, Ornithomimus

I never really believed it when I first laid eyes
on Gwangi, the living Allosaurus, trolling around the valley
It reminded me of my cousin skinny-dipping
in the river and eating raw fish

Eventually our horses will run away
and we’ll be cactus, standing around like living fossils
on TV
while my Aunty Beryl watches

We are surrounded by “poems”
that seem to be making fun of us





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