Jan Sand

Jan Sand Biography

Originally a New Yorker. Currently a resident of Helsinki, Finland

The Best Poem Of Jan Sand


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,
Blundered into death
Leading his tethered mind which called,
'Save me, save me.'
I have his legacy.
Black knives.

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