Poem of the Day
Yellow Striped Pajamas
By Shamsher Bahadur Singh
walking silently on his paws, he emerges from the semidarkness and disappears into it.
walking silently on his paws, he emerges from the semidarkness and disappears into it.
They are wrong: one can die from heat
or one can die weeded and bland. Shoes
will forget they walked ever down steps
He could come back soon, unpacked
knife to threaten, rough-grabbed
pout and piquant blade. I am always
As a doll I flew on a plane
for a lover, convinced his fists
uncovering my blood meant: win.
In the OED
“a rough Irish foot soldier”
claimed Spenser
wrote “no language”
Omaha
means both “flowing against the current” &
“spring is near”
Every single one gone Even the gray ones
the color of his eyes The black one
carved from coal shade of his hair
As fate would have it, I showered
at the time, late in the morning.
The evidence of certain postulates pooled around.
In the end, when the doctors circle around
like doctors, they can find nothing wrong,
The Passion plays
its faces, all of Christ, after being scourged.
Christ the lamb swings from a felled tree.