Saturday, November 6, 2010

St. Leonard of Noblac (patron of political prisoners)

my mother told me not

to drag my feet through

the underbrush---but to get out

of those brambles as soon

as I could. I put all the thistles

in my mouth. Felt my cheeks


I thought that

would make it easier.

we’re only here right now

because I’ve got a wasps’ nest

for a pillow and the wind’s so

restless that it blew

all the windows


the radiator is the only one

at home, tap-dancing

its way through the night.

No comments:

Post a Comment