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
How lucky I am tonight to be holding a lantern
at this railroad crossing in the middle of America
and not clinging to a leaky raft on the north Atlantic,
In 1027, not far from Bernburg,
eighteen peasants were seized
by a common delusion.
Dozens of burning, fish-shaped clouds dove for the horizon,
determined to make more of an already explosive sunset.
my boys & I refused to believe it was Michael who didn’t make it through the night even though the cameras strewn across the sky showed the mansion lawn specked with red sirens & from my own covers I imagined him to be simply asleep the way I slept
When the man can’t sleep, he builds
a matchstick replica of Auschwitz
in his basement, working from memory.
Ask the sand crabs for an inch by inch
description of my hips:
they’ve been scaling the depression I left
most people have absolutely the wrong idea of how to go about cutting a throat, the right way to do it on animals anatomically similar to humans such as dogs, sheep, veal calves and very young pigs—emphatically not on full-grown pigs
I
they have no gathering places
for taking of council nor
agreements
My books remain on the shelves as I left them last year
but all the words have died.
First, they get up, and they take these ups and downs in stride.