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Tom's Poetry |
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Orphanssometimes they’ll sprout in your yardwith white faces, seemingly drained of life, and it will seem as if they’re sleeping for a very long time with light pulses traveling thru a thousand corded fibers that extend perhaps from a nostril or possibly the corner of an eye or an infected hole in a cheek filled with puss but then the eyes will open & stare at you, without expression on the face but still somehow quite sad with their chins in the moist soil and their hair matted & tangled from lack of washing and their mechanical parts in tedious repetitive motions most of them are children and sometimes they’ll grow thru a crack in your basement wall and you can’t pull them out because their roots are deep and you’d kill them if you cut off their food tubes or electrical supply and if you try to hurt them, they’ll make a muted scream that rips at your heart (C) 5/22/97 Tom Brinck ACCESSIBILITY FEATURES / SITEMAP / CONTACT |
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Poetry