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
Hawk free of jess,
the diver springs
toward fire no son can bear,
Like a seal
in broken sleep,
aware of how
In hill fire Fall
come home from sea,
I climb the shoal
I’m drunk. My head holds up
the soft vibrations of the room.
Dusk. My daughter jogs her answer
The Eternal
is like the ax
the assassin slams
A Chinese emperor, in order to preserve
his power, decided that he would never
grant clemency to anyone. His reign
The disturbed man chopped up the body
of the older woman for days and threw it
into garbage cans at various locations
In my case, there was no drama. The lady doctor
was very nice. I made my way quickly to the other side
of being not pregnant again. Of being without child.
They are like men because they are isolated
yet stand in the rain, surrounded by mounds
of dirt and asphalt to catch spillover—
Thousands upon thousands of grains of sand,
Rivers that know no rest, the sparkling white
Snowflake more delicate than a shadow, light