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Tom's Poetry |
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Floating Rabbitsin a clump among the horsetailsyou'd think they were dead, floating like rags, till a head pops out of the water, the nose twitches... Brian threw one at me like a soaking nerf ball, but he missed. I told him it's in bad taste, like painting with chicken fat. they bump and tangle with the currents and nibble on lily pads and compete with geese for bread crumbs in the parks. they have no home or hostages. they see thru your best intentions with radiation eyes. effortlessly, they drift to sea. (C) 10/7/97 Tom Brinck ACCESSIBILITY FEATURES / SITEMAP / CONTACT |
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Poetry