Plain American Language

I cut a sliver/of WC William's finger
and placed it inside/my philosophy...

Saturday, March 24, 2007

Untitled Poem

There is a big, black hole in my eye.
It reminds me
Of the spaces between tree branches,

Between the oaks and maples
On Longmeadow Street in fall:

How they dwell in the wind
Cry in the cold
And the trees wait to grow.

2 comments:

Victoria said...

I like this one; it's very charming. But is the misspelled "hole" intentional?

thehubcapkid said...

oh haha, yes it is. good call.