Joe Bisicchia Poems
|1.||Drips It Down||10/14/2016|
|3.||All Shook Up||10/14/2016|
|4.||We Hold On||10/14/2016|
|5.||Picnic On A Monday In May||10/14/2016|
|6.||Tree In The Forest||10/16/2016|
|9.||Shape And Form||10/16/2016|
|10.||Song Of The Mime||10/16/2016|
|12.||Soles At The Hearth||11/19/2016|
|13.||The Incredible Shrinking Man||12/29/2016|
|15.||Trees Can Fly||1/26/2017|
|18.||Sounds Like Home||6/5/2017|
I know Isaiah Zeker,1909-1921.
Quick math. Kid was 12 when he gained his stone.
He's been buried for, what, let me think,
my math ain't great, a lot of years,
or about as long as I could think.
Acourse, he and I, we never did meet. Fishly, I mean.
Pass him as I walk down the street. He ain't alone.
There's a Floyd Smith,1866-1906, a baby named Joan.
But as for Isaiah, we share hellos as I walk to school.
Nothing spooky at all, in fact, really quite actually cool.
Gives me advice. Once we even ...
Drips It Down
Drips it down
the drops of blood
on the grassless mud
Flesh on wood,
man on tree,
the dead on dead