The Needs of Humans

I am in need of a manicure.
A manticore. A man to cure.
A cure-all. A curiosity. A
costume shop. A wholesaler
of the sea’s calcic treasures.
A pair of puddle jumpers, size four.
An extra U-lock. A vampire
metaphor. Some zebra stripes
to describe an angry octopus.
A sheep to take me back to
childhood, an electric fence,
and the perfect willow reed
with which to reach out and
receive the shock. I need
the rumour of a rabid fox
to spark a lifetime of imagined
illnesses. Some thin ice to wave
at the many ways of escape. A
good milk cow. A single rectangular
pupil to uphold my idea of
ideation. A skin rash, hay induced.
A small brook with a slippery rock,
a curtain of moss. An afternoon.
All of it. And ticks, drinking
themselves to perfect sickness
by the four-thousand-fold on
the hirsute moose’s hide. Someone
close. Someone who knows.
Someone who where there’s a will,
there’s a. I need a way. And a
why. Moreover, I need a lone
black sock. An open foundation.
A short report about the ordinary
mating habits of crickets.

Sarah Wolfson

Sarah Wolfson is the author of A Common Name for Everything, which won the 2020 A.M. Klein Prize for Poetry. She teaches writing at McGill University.

This Year, The Walrus Turns 20

For two decades, Canadians have relied on our thought-provoking journalism to make sense of our world.

As we look at Who We Are Now in 2023, help us power the next 20 years of inspiring conversations and fact-checked journalism. Donate to The Walrus today.

With thanks
Jennifer Hollet
Executive Director

Become a monthly supporter

Or make a one-time donation