“Hey, What Is A Poem Anyway?”


a gun aimed at another gun
misfiring
killing that blue bibbed
farmer in the dell missing
the barn in the oak trees
altogether

examine the bullet
read the petroglyphs of resistance
mapping the way the energy went

if you could translate it

nothing is new
only something different

the blood makes the grass grow
in thick patches that hide
the bullet whistling
where the fear went

simple really.

***
Stephen Morse 1972