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
On her way to the Louisiana State Penitentiary, Sister Mary Aloysius
Drove past many signs: Earthworms Here. Have Many Rabbit. Calicos
In Burlap Sacks for Free. There were wooden crosses, some upsided
Winter was the ravaging in the scarified
Ghost garden, a freak of letters crossing down a rare
Path bleak with poplars. The yew were a crewel
Sometimes I think I will be broken by your lukewarm Hand.
I was not ready for your form to be cold
Ever. Even in life
You did not inhabit, necessarily, a form,
The orchard grew excellent,
Good mass of apples assembling, one angel burned, looped
On the wire fence, in a bowl of gold most satisfactory.
If you put one leg
ahead of your body
balance on it and swing
King George the Fifth
looked like my grandfather
and felt as close
When I was a child
I brushed as a child
which is to say often
Loaf of bread or sheep's
head, rubber nubbed
for traction on flatnesses
“Have a lot of folks over for dinner and walk”
Thus spoke Gertrude Stein bellyaching about Manhood.
Fashionable windiness to gear sworn statements into hungry keys