Sunday, July 11, 2010
Monday, July 5, 2010
Please Check out My Blog
http://thierry-letsthinkaboutit.blogspot.com/2010/07/blog-in-construction_05.html
Crutches
It aches to picture him as a boy
who once wore uniforms and legs
to playground fights other than a bodega.
Grays ambush his lips bullying a dying cigarette
and pushing through a group of teenage eyes
who refuse to spell his name without crutches.
It takes too long to draw him through cracked windows
on steel colored sticks his armpits walk around with.
I move to a backless bench across the street
beside my next week’s project whose missing son
she heard is coming back later and older.
It’s too late to give him legs or the yankee cap
he grows his hair into. I’ll pick up tomorrow.
It’s been hard getting him to stand on a pad
who once wore uniforms and legs
to playground fights other than a bodega.
Grays ambush his lips bullying a dying cigarette
and pushing through a group of teenage eyes
who refuse to spell his name without crutches.
It takes too long to draw him through cracked windows
on steel colored sticks his armpits walk around with.
I move to a backless bench across the street
beside my next week’s project whose missing son
she heard is coming back later and older.
It’s too late to give him legs or the yankee cap
he grows his hair into. I’ll pick up tomorrow.
It’s been hard getting him to stand on a pad
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)