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|
|20.||Fairmount Park, Philadelphia||11/4/2017|
Comments about Joe Bisicchia
There is likely hesitation,
but he takes the cross.
A voice can only say so much.
His goes hollow.
He learns to look not at the loss
but at the example
he will follow.
And in the end,
he gives it back
Published by Time of Singing,2018
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.