For the boy with the daffodil,
fist-plucked handful, rain-washed,
drippy, it's a shout he's keeping down.
Unsheathed Excalibur, he holds it high.
Whoopee geedong with drips to shake out,
water-egg babies, wet touch, spray
and Holy Joe sprinkler
—forgive me teacher for what I done—
his gift, ex nihilo, stem-snapped, tangled,
signs for the raw
cries wet and wild and dribbly
is a bubble, gasp, yeller, trouble I've been
with snatched and baggies show
waver, weapon, flourish, hand held up
for force 10 and silent
and is, and isn't, rain.
322 Review publishes provocative emerging and established artists. Conceived and operated by former Rowan University graduate students of the Master of Arts in Writing Program, 322 Review is aggressively seeking the best fiction, creative nonfiction, poetry, and mixed media works of visual art.
Copyright © 2010