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
You are the secret conscience of the age.
Your power is confirmed
in the milkman's punctuality.
A bestiary catalogs
bests. The mediocres
both higher and lower
A bitter pill
doesn’t need
to be swallowed
Again and again
he wrote the
character for his name
Slip is one
law of crash
among dozens.
For we want to make off
with things that are not
our own. There is a pleasure
Much
of life is Dutch
one-digit operations
Mrs. MacAdam who hired the waitresses
told me to buy white shoes, three metal
grommets, safety pins, hairnets, said
When they are there,
I eat pears, says Mrs Last,
who likes pears best
One can’t work
by lime light.
A bowl full