Poem of the Day
Study of Children
By Asha Futterman
did you know
that you all work for me?
I asked them as a joke
did you know
that you all work for me?
I asked them as a joke
Even if you believe in Jesus there comes a moment when everything sinks. It is that moment when the fire collapses in the grate and the skinny sticks lie there smouldering, broken like the bones of the saints.
I have this large tattoo on my chest. It’s like a dream I have while I’m awake. I see it in the mirror as I shave and brush my teeth or when I change my shirt or make love.
Every second,
the average person
An ancient Babylonian, lost in the
pages of unwritten history books, was
it would take 10,000
monkeys 150 years
to achieve one “it would.”
The size of the human brain
increased from the apelike
capacity of 500 cubic centimeters
purple petunias, amaranths, flattened
daisies, mattresses with phosphorescent
bodies that shimmer in the dark—
The ass-muscles sag like a sling
but those glorious membranous wings
expand all the more extravagantly—
Riding in the wake
of your electric shock,
I was your therapy.
The sun has pulled
the dew from the grass,
leaving the roots warm, humid, soft.