"There's not much doubt in any of our minds that no complete idea springs fully formed from our brow,
needing only a handshake and a signature on the contract to send it off into the world to make twenty-five billion dollars.
The germ of the idea grows slowly..." - Walt Kelly

Friday, March 19, 2010

For safekeeping

This is a poem I wrote on the train home from a reading in NYC one weekend. For some reason I decided it would be interesting to trace the outline of my ticket and then write a poem inside the box it made. This is what I came up with:

Whittle it away,
stacked in piles of shavings
and carried to just the right spot;
barely visible. But:
it gleams like a July-girl’s smile
refracted to distortion
through rocking horse windows

Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
Paul Simon, You Can Call Me Al


  1. this is fantastic. i shared it on my blog. i credited/linked back to you. :]


  2. Cool rhythm on this thing here.