August 2018
My greatest aspiration is to be one of Emily's dashes. Or, short of that, to show my poems the water's edge. For more, see Facebook at Hiram Larew, Poet.
TEN YEARS
What would it have been like
If you had had a brother --
To trust someone like a bottle of dried glue
To never use blankets
To live this life as though you could always see
The ocean just beyond cornfields
Or smell common sense yawning close by
Whatever you’d give to each other you’d probably get back
As pieces of pie
Maybe by leaving each other
You’d get even closer
All you really know is that you will never know
The sky or square that’s a brother
Instead try to imagine his spirit
As if he was real --
Not the night so much but an evening
A wheelbarrow left out in the rain
Or some beautiful anger traced around
The shape of a head
Try to live like not a twin exactly
But a kind of double longing
Or think of hair that gets cut too short
But starts all over again
Anyway.
First appeared in KaJong.
TEN YEARS
What would it have been like
If you had had a brother --
To trust someone like a bottle of dried glue
To never use blankets
To live this life as though you could always see
The ocean just beyond cornfields
Or smell common sense yawning close by
Whatever you’d give to each other you’d probably get back
As pieces of pie
Maybe by leaving each other
You’d get even closer
All you really know is that you will never know
The sky or square that’s a brother
Instead try to imagine his spirit
As if he was real --
Not the night so much but an evening
A wheelbarrow left out in the rain
Or some beautiful anger traced around
The shape of a head
Try to live like not a twin exactly
But a kind of double longing
Or think of hair that gets cut too short
But starts all over again
Anyway.
First appeared in KaJong.
© 2018 Hiram Larew
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