Jan Sand Poems
- Legacy Split me in two And spread the gash. There, between ...
- The Funny Old Man There was an old man who was lonely and ...
- The Poet As Dr, Frankenstein My floor is littered With ...
- Foggy, Foggy Blues There is a morning fog here That rises ...
- Midnight Wind At The Carnival The chill air tumbles down from...
- The Master And His Palimpsest I do not know who I am nor ...
- Poetic Justice In the world of wizards Where words can ...
Originally a New Yorker. Currently a resident of Helsinki, Finland more »
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Split me in two
And spread the gash.
There, between the pillows
Of my lungs, tangled
In my intestines, buried
In the gory gelatine,
You will find my dead son.
Blue eyes like punched out sky.
His mind could cut patterns
From the world more intricate
Than the fretting in a Muslim temple.
At age two, his angers
Could shred the air
With black knives.
At three, an idiot Israeli
Tossed him fifteen feet
With the snout of a red sports car.
He lived thirty years
With a machine for lungs.
His body, twisted and confused,