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New Poem Breathing

August 19, 2009

Curry a new poem
with a wire brush

toss vanity aside
when you dare to

hit it two or more swipes
with the same scrub brush

your mother kept the kitchen
clean with, drag with a fine tooth comb

the kind she sought out nits
with when school was overrun

the way ant hordes might come
yet, fire ants from Brazil’s interior

the Amazon bone-dry
old wells besieged

silence the final
architect

by Tom Sheehan

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  1. Christina Pacosz
    August 20, 2009 at 11:30 am

    Tom, how wonderful to find you in my e-mail inbox. My friend Laurel Johnson sings high praise for your writing. Silence as the final architect. That’s an image to haunt us.

  2. August 23, 2009 at 1:57 pm

    Always enjoy a Tom Sheehan!

  1. August 21, 2009 at 5:04 am
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