Poem of the Day
Study of Children
By Asha Futterman
did you know
that you all work for me?
I asked them as a joke
did you know
that you all work for me?
I asked them as a joke
Tiny, dark, annoying, air-scribbling, vaguely
Malicious things keep buzzing around him like
Electrons about a nucleus, interstellar debris
The body pierced by a small hole,
or the lampshade, invents you.
How the seasons come unwrapped:
a rash like an orchid swells beneath my shirt.
And the rain falls exactly
like rain only inside you.
And the toilet is running,
and it’s autumn all at once.
Lonesome as the color of your hair
Unbound at sundown
Starved and then slaughtered, Virginia is
A spit of land that cowers before John
Still not out of hope one day to
see her country … Close now,
Simplistic, domineering,
recapitulating, flesh
wants flesh to last.
A half-theosophical, half-biological conceit:
The dentist calls, the radio goes on the blink.